My Neighbour is a Spartan
by Razzika
Summary: The war is over, the Flood are dead and the Covenant dissolved. Now retired, John must find his place in the world. With a little help from a certain few, he will find peace, love, friendship and finally be able to live. Or will humanity need their savior back? OC/John. The Arbiter, R'tas, Hood and Cortana also make appearances.
1. Chapter 1

_You are forewarned, this story is based heavily around OC characters, however canon characters such as Hood, Cortana, Arbiter and a few others will make semi-regular appearances, eventually becoming integral later in the story._

_Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the creators of the Halo universe, nor do I own anything, I just write to learn and experience, and hopefully for the enjoyment of others. _

_Razz_

Oo**O**oo**O**oO

_**My Neighbour is a Spartan**_

_**One**_

The sun shone down on a small town, bringing with it warmth and the promise of a clear day. Mist still clung to the tips of the mountains in the distance and the grass was covered in a fine frost, making it glitter in the light and crunch beneath the boots of those unfortunate to be awake so early in the morning.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky and steam rose from the melting frost, so too did the people rise.

Shop owners prepared for the day and opened their stores, farmers rose and tended to their animals and crops. Many other people made their way to the sole train station in Tamworth. They chatted their fellow townspeople, sipping home brewed coffee as they departed for the city for another days work. Those that did not work roused reluctant children from their beds and began the morning routine of getting ready for school.

At 0700 hours the town was alive and filled with activity, bursting with activity and life.

Sharp brown eyes took in every detail of the small but lively town, despite the fact that their owner was parked at least two miles from the edge of the bustling town. One would not have thought that only months ago the very existence of the town had been in mortal peril, that all of the 5000 people that inhabited Tamworth could have been killed by scorching plasma, pelted with leaden bullets, or consumed by the living dead.

The figure owning the brown eyes stood with corded arms crossed loosely over a broad chest. The nearly seven foot man cast a very long shadow on the grass as he continued to watch the people below.

He had been standing upon the small lookout for well over thirty minutes, simply observing his new surroundings with keen eyes. The passive expression never left his face, and he showed no discomfort from the early morning chill, despite the fact that he only wore a standard pair of UNSC fatigue bottoms, a black muscle shirt and a thin jacket, left partially unzipped.

The man remained still as a statue for a while longer, only moving when he had observed enough to have a mental map of the town and valleys layout in his mind. Booted feet barely made a sound as he walked swiftly to the gun-less Warthog, easily climbing into the monstrous cars' driver seat.

He briefly looked at a small data pad, the rectangle seeming even smaller in his large hands, checking the directions before smoothly manoeuvring the beast of a car onto the un-paved road. The man's destination led him exactly 4.3 more miles away from the town and up a rather large hill. The Warthog's tires kicked up small stones as it swiftly climbed, what could be considered, a steep hill.

Once he reached the hills peak, his exceptionally sharp eyes quickly found his destination.

Number 05, Stirling Hill.

His new home.

**oOOo**

A woman walked along the road, hazel eyes shifting from searching for any faults in the fence line to the dog trotting beside her. The Blue Great Dane's tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, the giant dog _wuffed_ air from his nose and kept wagging his tail, faithfully following his master as he plodded along with his giant feet thumping in the dirt.

Her eyes moved back to the fence, and a second later she let out a screech of surprise when the Dane suddenly barked and galloped down the road. Embarrassed at being so startled, she growled out a few curses before tugging down her hat and sprinting after the dog.

**oOOo**

The man shut off the growling engine of the Warthog, leaving it parked in the driveway of his new house. Gravel crunched beneath his booted feet as he climbed from the vehicle. Brown eyes saw every detail of his new abode.

It could be considered a roomy, but not overly large house from the outside. Tall windows were on the West and East walls and thin wooden blinds kept anyone from seeing inside. A thick, wooden door guarded entrance, a second screen door stood in front of it. Brown-orange tiles were layered over the roof, the lighter colour reflecting some of the infamous Australian heat. The pale white paint coating wooden walls had been slightly worn by the weather, nothing that he couldn't fix, he supposed. The garden had been kept in shape by someone, the grass hadn't overgrown in the yard, nor had weeds taken over the gardens. The trees had grown tall and created a wall of brown and green on his small property, a screen of privacy made by natures' hands.

All of his observations look less than a few seconds.

His hand had barely touched the front door of his house when his keen hearing picked up the sounds of a creature approaching.

Years of training and battle induced reflexes kicked in.

In the blink of an eye, he had spun and moved into a crouch. Muscles coiled, arms raised, ready to block or strike out.

Since he had been prepared to fight a fearsome beast, the man was understandably surprised when a large, dopey looking dog bounded to a stop before him. Bright blue eyes peered up at him, a friendly bark emerging from the creature's throat.

The man blinked once, twice, three times.

His emotional conditioning did not allow him to openly show his bewilderment.

"Get back here you silly dog!" A distinctly feminine voice yelled, a second pair of footsteps barrelled from the direction the dog had come from. He straightened out his frame, removing the slight scowl on his face. He appeared scary enough without it.

The dog barked again and moved closer to smell his hand just as the footsteps pounded down his driveway. Brown eyes left the dog in favour of watching a woman skid to a stop a few feet away from him.

She didn't see him as she was bent over, attempting to catch her breath, but he saw her perfectly. While she recovered, he noted that she was blonde, lean, but not fit like a marine, and had skin lightly darkened by the sun. She wore simple clothes, faded blue pants made from a material he recognized as denim, with a dark singlet and a lighter over-shirt, left unbuttoned. She also had an unusual hat upon her head.

"Damn...dog." She grumbled between breaths, before finally straightening.

When she met his eyes, they widened as her face flushed with embarrassment, she sent a glare at the dog who ignored her in favour of sniffing his shoes.

"I didn't realise anyone was here, sorry for barging in like this!" she hastily apologized, "Boomer just took off all of a sudden."

The aforementioned Boomer barked at the mention of his name and nudged the man's large hand with his nose. Taking special care to be gentle, he pet the dog on the head a few times, the blueish-grey fur soft under his calloused fingers.

The blonde haired woman laughed a bit at this, the sound easy if a little breathless, "He is quite friendly, loves getting attention." She smiled in a friendly manner as he continued to pet the dog. He detected the slight accent to her voice, they odd way her voice shaped the vowels and lengthened certain sounds, and he deduced that she was a native to this land, he had heard a number of marines with the same accent.

"I take it that you are our new neighbour?" She said with equal parts friendliness and curiosity.

Not removing his hand from the dogs head, he replied with a short _yes_. Her smile widened a touch, not at all put off by his one-word answer or the indifferent tone to his voice, she seemed intrigued, if anything.

"Cool, it has been lonely up on the mountain with just two other people and the animals." The woman offered her hand, and he felt curiosity and relief mingle briefly in his gut at the fact that she didn't recoil at the sight of him. The scars caused many to shy away. "The name's Gabby..."

He hesitated for a brief moment, not used to people being so forthcoming with someone of his appearance and occupation...but then again, this woman had no idea who he was or what he did. Gabby did not seem put off by his hard voice or hardened appearance, which was unusual.

He took her hand in his far larger one, practically engulfing the woman's hand, and for once he gave someone his _name_, not his number or rank.

"John."

Oo**O**oo**O**oO

_I hope that this had tickled your fancy! _

_Razz_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for all the support guys!_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbour is a Spartan**_

_**Two**_

John, also known as Spartan 117 or Master Chief, blinked in surprise when a rather loud sneeze echoed from his living room. His sensitive ears rang from the high pitch, making him repress a wince.

"Damn, there is a_ lot_ of dust in here!"

He agreed with the woman silently. A layer of dust coated every surface within his new house. The furniture and appliances had been left unclaimed by the previous owners' next of kin after his passing a few years ago. Gabby had told him as much, chatting animatedly with him about his new home, remaining unperturbed by his brief and mostly uninformative answers. She had even offered to help him clean the house and get settled, and he found it hard to turn down such a good-natured offer.

After inspecting the kitchen and bathroom, the exceedingly tall man moved almost silently towards the soft footfalls of his friendly neighbour. He found her wiping the dust from the photo frames left upon the shelves attached to the wall in the living room, tanned fingers moved gently over the dirty surface.

Her body shuddered and her face scrunched up as she repressed another sneeze, something that he was grateful for her doing. However-

"You should not do that-" she started and dropped the frame, his hand snatched out and caught it before she could even make a move to reach for it "-It could cause a vessel in your brain to burst, essentially killing you."

Her face was rather comical at that.

"Bu-wha?" she mumbled, blinking a few times.

While she did this, he looked at the photograph. A tall and sturdily built man stood proudly beside a huge, black horse, one hand resting on the brilliant stallion's withers. A grey and blonde beard adorned his smiling visage, along with a well worn cowboy hat, quite similar to Gabby's, and a pair of reflective shades covered his eyes.

Apparently overcoming her previous bewilderment, Gabby cleared her throat softly and tapped the photo still in his hands. Her nail clicked quietly against the glass.

"That's Frank, he was the old owner of this place...before he passed nearly three years ago." She wore her emotions on her sleeve, he noted, the sadness of the man's death dampening her demeanour. John assumed that she had known the man well, for her to still feel such sadness over his passing, even years after it had happened.

Gabby visibly shook herself, her short blonde hair, barely long enough to touch her shoulders, swinging along with the motion.

"Frank had no family except his son, and he was off fighting in the war so understandably...all of his stuff went unclaimed." She shrugged, eyes roving over all the furniture "Anything written in Frank's Will to his son was taken and kept in storage by his lawyer anyway, so I guess all of this-" she tapped the nearby coffee table with her toe "-is yours."

"I suppose it is." He murmured quietly.

John gently placed the photo back in its spot, marked clearly by the slim rectangle of dust free space. He had never really owned _anything_, nothing had been completely his before, except the countless badges and uniforms the UNSC had given him. He had never had a real home after Reach had been glassed by the Covenant, the small trinkets he had stashed away in his earlier years, carefully hidden in the frame of his bed, had been disintegrated by the super heated plasma. During the war, his life had been 'Go Go Go!', no time to rest, no time to relax. He had never purchased anything, nor been given the opportunity to call something totally and completely his.

Until now.

This building, this place...was _his _home. This furniture, these objects, they here his, and his alone.

Someone calling his name snapped him from his musings.

"John? Helloooo?" Gabby waved from the end of the hallway, snapping her fingers to get his attention.

"Pardon?"

She laughed softly "I said that I found the vacuum cleaner." Her hands pulled out a bulky looking machine from the closet she stood by. "Hopefully it shouldn't take too long to clean this place up." She muttered softly, his enhanced hearing allowing him to pick it up anyway.

Gabby set the heavy machine down in the living room and breezed into the kitchen, already quite familiar with the layout of his home. Which did unnerve him slightly.

John mapped out the house in his mind, labelling good defensive point and places which would provide the quickest escape routes...

A light sigh escaped his mouth as he let the train of thought go with some effort.

He did not need to take such measures anymore, he had retired. The war was _over._ Spartan 117 was no longer needed by the people of Earth to be their defender.

All of this made him feel...redundant...useless...

Lost.

He had this life, this home now, and he didn't know what to do with it.

Seemingly oblivious, Gabby strode back out of the kitchen armed with plastic rubbish bags and several cleaning products.

"Okay, Frank had plenty of stuff left under his sink for us to clean with, so we should be set." As she smiled, John felt the hopeless feelings diminish. He didn't know why he felt lighter or less burdened, but he did, and it felt _good. _

Perhaps he was not as lost as he though, so long as his new acquaintance could help him out.

o**OO**o

Gabby did not openly show her shock at seeing such a strong man look so...lost. He had walked with confidence, practically oozed a calm and assuring aura and stood with a proud posture. His whole body radiated power and strength, coiled at all times and ready to pounce with a moment's notice.

As the blonde woman set out the products they would use to clean, her thoughts wondered to the few other instances in which she had seen such behaviour.

Several times Gabby had seen retired UNSC personnel look at the normal world, the _civilian_ world, with the same confused and lost eyes. They had been fighting for so long, and many were not Earth-born, and therefore had no possessions, family or even a home to go to. They were simply lost when the War was over. They did not know how to live or what to do with themselves, how to live. Adrift in a world they would have died to save yet didn't know.

It was a sad, heartbreaking thing to see people hurt so. Especially after they had given _so_ _much_.

Making sure to not show any of her inner thoughts, Gabby smiled and motioned for John to help her removed the sheets covering the larger furniture. At this, she noticed how his rich, brown eyes had less of the previous torment within them.

Her presence seemed to ease the negative emotions. The friendship she had hoped to form with this man suddenly became very important.

o**OO**o

It was four hours later that the two deemed their job of cleaning done and dusted.

Gabby let out a sigh of relief, falling onto the couch with no grace and letting her tired muscles relax, the bones in her back popping as she shifted into a more comfortable position. A quiet groan emerged from her, feeling the grime, dust and chemicals coating her exposed arms like a second skin.

John observed the woman as she closed her hazel eyes and blew a strand of sweaty hair from her face. She had been a great help, he had not even known how to work the washing machine, let alone use the vacuum cleaner.

It really irritated him that all he really knew how to do was kill things and drive war machines.

Then again, no Spartan was ever taught how to survive in the real world, mainly because none of them were expected to live long enough to be able to retire, he concluded, mouth pressed into a grim line.

Johns own hands felt somewhat 'icky', as Gabby so eloquently put it, after handling so many cleaning products. But his home was now clean and liveable. Several things did need to be purchased and replaced before he could really live here comfortably. Gabby had offered her services once more and promised him that she would show him around town and help him pick up what he needed tomorrow, for which he was immensely grateful.

Right now though, all he wanted was a shower.

Gabby had been thinking the exact same thing apparently.

"Right, so I feel gross and hungry." She hauled herself up from the couch and sighed, patting her belly, "You can come to mine for lunch in about an hour, those towels we put out should be dry by now...do you have soap and clean clothes?"

"I do. Thank you for all the help, Gabby." He said with sincerity, making the effort to put some emotion into his voice.

She laughed and waved her hand in a dismissive manner.

"Don't worry about it, that's what neighbours are for." She turned for the door, grabbing her hat from one of the hooks as she went, "See you for lunch, my house is the only house in that direction." Gabby smiled again and pointed to the left.

Without waiting for his answer, Gabby softly closed the door and left for her house.

John felt a very small tug at the corner of his lips.

He liked his new neighbour more and more.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Let me know what you all thought!_

_Razz_


	3. Chapter 3

_Enjoy!_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbour is a Spartan**_

_**Three**_

Gabby raked her fingers through her damp hair, wiping the excess moisture that clung to her fingers on her denim shorts. Cracking her knuckles, the blonde started pulled several items from her fridge and set them on the counter. With a flick of her fingers, the radio was turned on. A station playing the old music from the early 21st century began filling the almost silence, the light beats and soothing twang of a classical American country song added a bounce to her step as she moved about in her homey kitchen.

She hummed along with the song, the deep baritone of the singers voice drowning out any noise she made. Gabby systematically began chopping up the vegetables and layering them over the luncheon meat already laid on the sandwiches. Having seen how positively _massive_ John was, Gabby made sure to make plenty of food.

Something cold and wet bumped her elbow. Without turning, Gabby tossed a small section of cheese over her shoulder. A grin split her face when the telltale click of Boomer's teeth closing over the airborne food.

Satisfied with his treat, the large dog flopped down in a corner, content to listen to her hum to the music she was so fond of. His tail thumped on the floor whenever she threw another piece of food for him to eat.

By the time Gabby had a platter of sandwiches made there was still a short wait before the hour was up. Shrugging to herself, she covered the plate to keep the flies away and the food fresh and pulled out can of fruity fizzy drink from the fridge. Taking a large gulp of her drink, the blonde woman set it aside and scooped up the remainder of the carrot, striding out of her home and into the front yard, stopping briefly to slip her thongs on.

The faintly sweet fragrance of the Jacaranda trees that littered her farm, the hay for the horses and the very faint scent of horse manure entered her nose. Thankfully the many, many flowering plants covered up most of the horse dung smell.

A soft smile appeared on her face. This was home. It was where she was raised, and where she had lived for practically her whole life. It was a building of memories, of warm laughter and tight embraces, of rainy days by the fire and excited chatter in the kitchen.

Gabby remembered how John had seemed unsure of himself within his home; he didn't know what to do. She wanted him to feel the same sense of comfort and security that she felt within her own home. To her, a house should be a home, a shelter, a sanctuary, a place where a person could feel peace. It irked her that John didn't seem to feel that, that he was so _uncertain_ about this place he called home.

The woman stopped by the paddock right next to her house and let out a soft whistle. A dapple grey mare nickered and trotted over obediently, ears flickering back and forth.

Gabby would help her new neighbour feel at home. Everybody deserved to feel at home in their house.

o**OO**o

John finished lacing his boots and stood up, almost hitting his head on the banister dividing the living room from the hallway. His height did have its disadvantages.

The particular reason he had chosen this house had been because Cortana had given him a list of buildings that he would not have to constantly duck down in. The A.I and friend had diverted a small portion of her vast processing power to finding houses that suited his requirements and his personal requests. This one had seemed perfect, but yet...it still didn't feel like home. It was his, but he didn't feel like he _belonged_. He was a stranger in his own home.

Letting out a small, but tired sigh, John left his house and locked the door.

Seeing as how it had gotten progressively hotter and the humidity had risen as the day went on, John chose to forgo the thin but stifling jacket and simply wear a less stifling dark green shirt. It was the loosest thing he owned and the largest shirt the UNSC made. Even then, the shirt was still form fitting.

The sun beat down on his back as his long legs quickly ate the distance between his property and Gabby's. As he thought about the woman, a very tiny smile came to his lips. She certainly was an interesting person. There were not many people that would needlessly go out of their way to help another person, a complete stranger who was a giant, scarred and built of pure muscle.

As he approached Gabby's driveway, noticeable by the sudden abundance of trees and a mail box in the shape of some large and long necked bird, he cocked an eyebrow.

That was odd.

Eyeing the strange mail box, John walked down the driveway, welcoming the cool shade the shelter of trees brought, the topmost branches overlapping and creating an archway of green and brown. Broken sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating a scattered pattern across his body and the ground. His keen hearing picked up the sound of several horses and music playing.

Seconds later a familiar friendly bark and the thumping of feet greeted him as Gabby's house came into view. The Dane loped to his side and wagged his tail enthusiastically. John gently ruffled the dogs fur, making his ears flop around like clothes caught in a powerful wind. His eyes swept over the area, an ingrained instinct left over from years of training.

A happy whinny and feminine laughter drew his eyes away from scrutinizing the house settled before him. Gabby had her hands either side of a grey horses face, said horse was snuffing at the woman's blonde hair. It took her a second to notice him, but when she did her smile widened.

"Hey neighbour!"She turned away from the horse and waved. Irritated at the lack of attention, the horse nudged her in the back, causing her to stumble, "Ack!"

The horse nickered and trotted away, flicking her tail behind her as Gabby dusted off her hat and grumbled. Somehow, John knew the horse was laughing.

"Bloody horse..." she sulked and strode over to him, "...I gave her a treat too, ungrateful brat."

After so many years of not experiencing it, John was surprised when a small chuckle escaped him. It crackled oddly in his throat, almost like the muscles didn't quite remember how to make the sound.

She evil eyed him, "Yeah yeah, laugh it up." He could see by the twitches in her jaw that she was suppressing a smile, "You hungry or what?" she didn't wait for him and instead walked inside her house.

He followed quickly, feeling amused by her behaviour.

Boomer nudged the screen door open with his nose and flopped down on the cool tile floor of the kitchen, his pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

"Would you like to eat inside or out on the porch?"

Gabby appeared in his line of vision, holding a plate of sandwiches and a container filled with a creamy and lumpy looking...mush.

"It's potato salad" she smiled, "Looks gross but tastes great, so inside or outside?"

"Outside, if you don't mind."

"Okay, outside it is, grab us some drinks, my hands are kinda full."

o**OO**o

Gabby balanced the platter of sandwiches in one hand and the potato salad in the other.

"Oh, and some forks and plates would be good too." A chuckle emerged from her throat as she shook her head at her forgetfulness, "Top draw and the cupboard next to it."

John nodded his head cordially, and she repressed a frown. His behaviour...it was like he was following an order, not a friendly request.

Her hazel eyes couldn't help but stray to the scars that littered his exposed skin. Some were tiny and silver, others were large, thick and pink. Some curled over bands of muscle, some streaked in lines, and some spread over his skin, oddly lumpy and shiny.

Each of the lines carved into his flesh told a story, a tale of survival, of strength, of a battle with death.

Stifling a sigh, Gabby lead John out onto her back porch. She set down the food and dragged a chair out for him to sit down in with her foot, thumping down in her own.

John set the plates, drinks and forks down before taking his seat. With a lot more grace than her, she thought at seeing him ease down into the chair carefully, his frame bending smoothly.

"Dig in, anything you don't eat can go to Boomer," she sent the dog a knowing look from where he sat _innocently_ behind the screen door, "He will be more than happy to keep food from going to waste."

With that, Gabby and the near silent man dug into the simple, but tasty meal.

o**OO**o

John relished in the taste and texture of real food. For years, nearly his _entire_ life, he had eaten rehydrated foods, ration packs or protein and nutrient paste. This...this was _delicious_. He refrained from stuffing the sandwich triangles into his mouth all at once and instead savoured the taste of _real_ food, happy with how once he swallowed there was not a layer of powdery paste coating his mouth.

The potato salad was magic beyond words.

He would definitely be coming over for lunch more often, or be learning to cook himself.

o**OO**o

Gabby chewed slowly and watched John eat at least two whole sandwiches while she had barely gotten through one.

The man was hungry, it seemed.

It pleased her that someone enjoyed her cooking; normally she wasn't very good in the kitchen. She could whip up a few decent meals, but nothing fancy. The one time she had tried cooking lasagne had ended in a very burnt, unflavoured failure. The potato salad was from a deli in town, her attempt at that particular recipe had been a failure too.

"Mary and Bob from up the road run a cow farm and own an Orchard, I buy most of my meat from them and Mary makes the _best_ pies ever." Her eyes strayed to the paddocks that made up most of her backyard. Two large Clydesdales, one dark brown, the other a light chestnut, stood side by side under the shade of a tree and dozed, the black Fell Pony sisters pranced in the shallows of the dam. The proud black stallion from the photo of Frank stood off to the side, minding his own business and munching on some grass. The last yard had all of her smaller ponies and horses. There were a few other horses, but their paddocks were not in view from her back porch.

Gabby loved her farm.

Finishing her sandwich, she piled a small scoop of the creamy salad onto her plate (mainly since John had finished off the sandwiches, not that she minded).

A comfortable silence reigned between the two, and by the time the food was gone both were satisfied with the meal. Gabby let out a contented sigh, then stood up reluctantly.

"Well," she straightened out her spine, causing three cracks to occur, "I have animals to feed, shelters to muck out and I need to try and fix my bloody truck."

She stacked the empty plates and containers, throwing a stray crust to Boomer, and strode inside.

Gabby didn't hear him get up, but all of a sudden a hand appeared with their two empty cans. The woman let out a huff of air after nearly jumping in fright.

"Geez, John, make some noise when you sneak up on me!" she joked.

"My apologies, I did not mean to scare you."

"Hey," she slapped him in the shoulder, like she would her friends, and was startled at how _solid_ his shoulder was, "I was joking, relax, loosen up, chillax...and others things like that."

She could practically feel his dark eyebrow rise at her odd sentence.

"Very well, I will...chillax."

o**OO**o

John felt another chuckle rumble out as Gabby laughed warmly at his statement.

"I think that we'll get along fine, mate." Her hazel eyes sparkled with laughter.

He bobbed his head in acknowledgment, "Thank you for the meal, is there anything that I can do to repay you?"

He watched at the blonde woman tapped her lower lip and _hmmed_ to herself, considering his offer.

"...Are you any good with engines?"

o**O**oo**O**o

_This will be a slow build romance, just to let you know. ;)_

_Razz_


	4. Chapter 4

_Enjoy!_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbor is a Spartan**_

_**Four**_

John watched Gabby's retreating figure, the large dog named Boomer faithfully trotting by her side as her lean legs carried her swiftly down towards the paddocks. The woman was certainly a welcome person in his new found way of life, he realized. She seemed like a reliable and friendly person, one whom asked for little to nothing in return for her help, yet would not turn away offers for repayment. His _profound_ skill in the battle field accounted for jack squat in the real world, the _civilian_ world. Suffice to say, if he had not met her this morning, he would be completely and utterly lost.

Now that just would not do.

Shaking his head, the large man turned back to the task at hand.

The hood of the old Ute was propped open and its engine was displayed for the world to see like a Grunts fear in the face of his golden visor. The complex engine was covered in grease and smelt like rust, metal and oil.

Perhaps he should have offered to help Gabby feed the animals.

His broad chest deflated as he huffed out a small sigh, he was not gifted with engines. The Spartan only knew the very basics of engine maintenance, and his knowledge consisted of how to hotwire a vehicle or where to shoot to create the biggest explosion possible.

Sharp brown eyes roved over the engine, picking out areas that looked as if they had been tampered with or damaged. After a good few minutes of this, John thought that he _could_ have found the problem...but alas, pulling the one tiny knob he had identified as a possible problem seemed to, quite literally, have explosive results.

It was his insanely fast reflexes that saved John from being covered in motor oil.

The jet of oil shot out from a spout and splashed onto the unpaved road outside Gabby's garage, making a large slippery puddle. The puddle seemed to mock him with a greasy smile.

John grabbed an oily rag and held it over the nozzle to subdue the spray, his other hand gripped the knob and turned it the opposite way. His hand slipped twice despite his firm grip and oil ended up splashing his torso and head.

It was _now_ that someone decided to call Johns' phone.

Repressing yet another sigh, John made sure that the knob was securely shut off before wiping his hands clean on his pants. One look at the caller ID had John's irritation depleting.

"_Hello, John."_ A low, soothing and obviously synthesized voice said before he could even get a word in. His lips quirked up at the familiar and very welcome tone.

"Cortana." He greeted with a teeny, tiny smile, "Is something wrong?"

Her laughter echoed through the phone "_Why must something be wrong for an old friend to call?"_

A small chuckle hummed from his chest.

"_I was actually calling to ask what you thought of your new home."_ If the A.I had a physical body John knew that she would have one hand propped on her hip. Her typical pose when the appropriate holograph platform was available.

"_So, how's your humble abode?"_ she asked lightly.

"It meets expectations."

"_Wow, you sound thrilled_!" the A.I said sarcastically. "_Come on, John."_ She said in a softer voice "_It's me here, tell me what you really think."_

So he told her.

This was probably to most vocal he had ever been with his feelings, having never felt ones such as this so strongly before. He had felt sadness, anger and sorrow when his best friend and fellow Spartan, Sam, had died in an explosion. When some of his brother and sister Spartans had not survived the augmentations, John had felt a bitter emotion rise within him. Failure. He had failed as their leader.

But now, _he_ was the failure. It was an ugly feeling.

"-Hell Cortana, I couldn't even work the damn vacuum cleaner!" he growled bitterly, the metal beneath his hand clenching from his powerful grip. An imprint of his closed fist was left as he removed his hand.

Swallowing a few times, John forced himself to relax.

"_John…civilian life is a gigantic change from being the Master Chief_." Her voice was soft and understanding. "_It will take a while, and you might feel unsure of yourself at times…but it will get easier."_

A small, and slightly awkward silence prevailed.

"_I am sorry that I can't do more, John."_ It came out in a whisper.

His back met the wall, one hand running over his tired face.

"It is fine, Cortana." His eyes left and focused on Gabby's far off figure in the paddocks, her blue shorts sticking out against the green and brown of the fields. "My new neighbor is more than willing to help where you cannot." A small amount of humor crept into is despondent voice. Cortana's chuckle was thick with relief.

"_New neighbor huh? Don't tell me that I am getting replaced_!" she said with fake shock. A.I's rarely had personalities quite as eclectic or witty as his blue friend. He wouldn't have her any other way though. He chuckled.

"No one could replace you, Cortana. But, Gabby has been quite helpful today."

"_Gabby hmm_?"

"Yes, I do believe that if she had not run into me I would still be unable to use the washing machine."

The A.I. laughed cheerily.

"_You'll_ _get the hang of it, is there anything that I can do to help?_"

John glanced at the truck, briefly scowling at the puddle of oil.

"Do you know anything about engines?"

The A.I just laughed.

o**OO**o

Gabby strained under the weight of the heavy bale of hay, her entire body quaking from fatigue. With a heave, the bundle of horse feed was tossed over the fence for the hungry equines. The two heavy built Clydesdales trumpeted loudly in thanks before merrily munching on the feast, content rumbles echoing in their cavernous chests.

The blonde woman was tired, itchy and sweaty from carting the bales around to each of the paddocks. She wasn't unfit necessarily, but carrying each bale of hay from the feed shed and lugging them about her very _large _property was taxing on her physique.

"Bloody hell." She puffed, taking a moment to shake her burning arms and stretch her sore back, "I hope John has got my truck working."

The old Ute had gone 'Puk-puk-puk-pffffrrrrrrrrt-chug-chug-boom' yesterday, which left her with no other option but to haul the horses meals down from the shed by hand. Which was a really, _really_ hard chore considering the shed with the feed was at the bottom of the hill and the paddocks were spread out on and away from the hill. It was exhausting considering how much feed each horse needed.

A southerly breeze played with her loose strands of hair, cooling the sweat on her brow. At her shrill whistle, Boomer's ears perked. The large dog had lain down under a tree and dozed off while she labored in the heat. Patting her thigh a few times to beckon him over, the dog stood up and galloped to her side in seconds.

Fondly ruffling his fur, Gabby quietly began walking to her garage. The blonde woman rolled her shoulders in an attempt to quell her sore muscles cries of abuse and pain. A small curse flew from her mouth when one muscle in particular pulled the wrong way. Contorting her body to try and massage the pulled muscle proved to just make the pain worse.

She gasped softly, growling out a four letter word that would have made her father shove a bar of soap into her mouth.

Now Gabby _really_ hoped that John had her truck running.

o**OO**o

John did indeed have Gabby's truck running, sort of, and that was mostly because of Cortana's expert knowledge in just about anything and everything.

"_Reattach the plug and it should run fine_." The A.I said in a perky voice as she gave John the final step in repairing the Ute's engine. After following her instructions to the letter he inserted the key into the ignition and turned it-

**Chuk-Chuk-Chuk-RrrrRrrrRrrr-Boom-Grrrrrrmmmmmmmmm**

Both John and Cortana mimicked each other (or they would have, if Cortana had a hologram deck) and rose a brow as the engine growled to life.

"_Run _fine_ is a figurative term."_

Shutting the engine off, John allowed himself a small smirk of pride.

"It works."

"_That's debatable going by the sounds it's making."_

"I've driven Hogs that make worse noise than this." He offered in defense of Gabby's truck and his repair job.

Cortana snorted amusedly. "_Is there anything else you need my expert knowledge on?"_

"No, I do not require your help anymore, thank you, Cortana." He said sincerely.

"_No problem, John. I'll check in some time later, till then, farewell."_

"Till then."

He slid the phone back into his pocket and closed the hood of the Ute. His job done, John made to leave the garage only to find Gabby at the entrance, a shocked but delighted expression upon her face.

Her mouth agape, Gabby stuttered for a minute before barking out a laugh.

"Holy-you actually fixed it!"

"I had some help." He admitted with a slight shrug.

"Um…" she blinked, eyes sweeping the garage. "From whom?"

"A friend with experience with engines." He pulled his phone out briefly, which caused a look of understanding to come over her sweaty and red face. She then became amused and regretful at the same time. A truly odd expression, if he had anything to say about it.

"You're _covered_ in grease, John."

He glanced down at himself with a grimace, trying to ignore the oily droplet that was running down his neck, "It would appear so."

Gabby snorted and rummaged through a cupboard for something, eventually pulling out a clean towel and handing it to him.

"You may want to put some washing detergent in a bucket of hot water and soak those clothes to get all the grease out." She told him as he wiped his hands and phone clean. As he reached up and ran the towel over his face and through his hair, he caught Gabby's eyes as they flickered down towards the skin revealed as his shirt rode up. Her eyebrows dipped slightly, and he realized that she must be seeing the thick scar that curled over the lower half of his abdomen. This was confirmed when she absentmindedly traced the scar on her own body, a thumb sweeping across the trail a few times before she seemed to realize what she was doing.

"I will do so, is there anything else you need?"

To his relief, there was not pity or disgust in those eyes as they met his. Though, he saw with a repressed smirk, she did seem somewhat bashful. He pretended that he had not noticed her staring.

"Uh, no, thanks for your help, come over at nine tomorrow and we'll head down to town and I'll show you around and we'll get you some stuff for your fridge and house."

"Very well, I will see you tomorrow." Nodding his farewell, John handed Gabby back her towel and strode from the garage. Tying to ignore the way the dirty clothing stuck to his muscled frame and made him feel hot and sticky.

o**OO**o

Gabby turned to her truck once she could no longer see John and chewed her lip thoughtfully. John was a big man, a big man with big scars. No doubt a big chaotic past to.

Sighing, Gabby absentmindedly put the greasy towel down and pocketed the keys from the truck. It was then that she noticed something different about her truck.

Calloused fingers ran over the dents on the frame of the Ute.

Frowning, she slid her hand into the slight dents, eyebrows rising when her hand fit the impression nicely. The only difference was that the hand that made the dents was far, far larger than hers.

Hazel eyes flicked up to the direction of Johns' house, a soft _hmm_ leaving her throat.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Thoughts? Complaints? Adivce?_

_Razz_


	5. Chapter 5

_A shout out to Raining Moon Song and her fantabulous stories 'Crystal Cerberus' and 'Days of Reflection'. She is really skilled but DoR has few reviewers despite that it's a great story! Just read at least 5 chapters! It won't take too much of your time and it would mean sooo much too Mooney!_

_Thanks!_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbor is a Spartan**_

_**Five**_

_He was floating through an inky darkness…no, this dark, this blackness was different. There was nothing. Up, down, left, right…Hell, he didn't know which way was up and which way was down. The black was suffocating. Smothering._

_He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe._

_A great pressure built in his chest. Something was clawing from inside. Trying to go deeper or get out he didn't know. All he knew was that there was something _alive_ inside his chest, stabbing at his soul, reaching for his mind._

_Something…someone reached out and slithered into his consciousness._

_Dark. Evil. Malicious._

_Hungry._

"_I will consume you!"_

"_Flesh and bone weakling!"_

_Suddenly, a bright blue light shone from everywhere. The deep, gravelly voice screeched and the claws recoiled. _

_Out of nowhere a sickly green body of _something_ shot towards him._

"_You will be MINE!"_

_His arms were lead, his legs stiff. He was defenseless._

_The thick, undead mass had nearly reached him when a sword of burning, pulsating light burst to life. It sliced through the mass, burning and fighting off the horror. _

_A second mass charged from above._

"_Child of my creators, you WILL __**PERISH!**__"_

_A warm, but deadly, red light shot from behind him and burned the mass of living death. The mass of death retreated._

_The voice, filled with hate and death, flooded his mind._

"_**YOU CANNOT ESCAPE ME!"**_

John woke with a start. Pulse racing and beads of sweat covered his naked torso. It took him a moment to recognize where he was, but when he did his racing heart began to steady. A sigh escaped his mouth as he let his tired body relax against the bed, causing the bed springs to squeak in protest. Roughly scrubbing at his face with both hands, John tired to push back the images bombarding him.

Nightmares were not new to him, but it had been a very long time since he had experienced one this bad. Images of his first kills, his first contact with the covenant, the glassing of reach, the death of Sam…none of that compared to the vivid and horrific nightmares brought on by the Flood.

Reaching beneath the mattress, John's fingers closed around the handle of his Magnum Pistol. With the touch came the familiar calm feeling that overtook him whenever his mind settled into Spartan mode.

His pulse slowed, his mind became eerily calm and all emotion was shoved aside.

Spartan 117 was in control.

For now anyway.

o**OO**o

Gabby tugged on her jeans, doing the infamous pants dance to get them to sit comfortably. The blonde woman pulled her hair into a messy ponytail and pulled a light jacket over her shirt. The sky was overcast and the cool breeze from yesterday had stuck around, the beginnings of storm that would hit late tonight no doubt. Around midday it would either become humid or it would get colder.

Gabby stuffed a biscuit into her mouth and tugged her boots on, hopping down to the front door as she did so. She chose to forgo her hat and dashed over to the garage.

Boomer barked happily when his master wheeled her little dirt bike out of the garage and swung on. He loved to race alongside her when she rode the motorbike.

The bike snarled to life and spat foul smelling gas from the exhaust. Gabby smirked at the dog and sped off towards the paddocks, Boomer's long legs allowed him to keep up with the bike.

The woman drove the bike over to the large stable that housed all of her horses during bad weather and all the feed and horse tack (like saddles, bridles and spare shoes). She left the bike running as she unlocked and opened the doors. If it was going to storm later on, it would be better to bring the horses in now, rather than race home and rush them inside.

For the next hour, Gabby and Boomer brought all of the horses into the stable and into their respective stalls. Thankfully, the stable was not more than 100 meters from her house, so she was close in case the animals got riled up during the storm.

The great black stallion rumbled a soft whiney as Gabby pet his thickly muscled neck in farewell. She unclipped the lead from his bridle and closed the stall door as he happily munched on the oats provided.

The woman relocked the stable doors and rode the bike back to her garage.

Before she rode it in a thought occurred to her.

John would be meeting her in 20 minutes to go into town. They would most likely be buying a fair few things, most of which would be too big to fit into the cab of her truck, and therefore would have to be placed in the bed. The bed of her truck was filthy.

The bed of Johns…truck/monster car looking thing looked very clean however.

Deciding that using John's truck would be far better than using hers, Gabby closed her garage and turned the bike around. Boomer loped by her side as she drove over to her neighbors house and his monster of a truck.

o**OO**o

John pulled a shirt on just as a someone knocked on his door. Brown eyes flicked to the clock.

There were still 15 minutes before he was to meet Gabby at her house.

Was there something wrong?

Pulling his belt on, John quickly strode from his bedroom.

He peeked through the window and confirmed that it was Gabby knocking at his door before unlocking and opening the heavy wooden door.

Gabby smile was friendly when brown eyes met hazel.

"Morning, John."

He returned the greeting. "Has there been a change in plans?"

She shook her head. "Nah, since you need to buy a fair few things I figured that it would be better to use your truck since it is far-" a faint dusting of red rose in her cheeks at the admission "-far cleaner than mine. Seemed right to meet you here rather than drag you back and forth."

John found this to be quite reasonable and pulled his jacket from the coat rack by the door before fishing the keys from his pocket. He felt a small smile creep onto his face as Gabby's hazel eyes immediately went to the shiny keys and a small amount of longing crept into them.

"Would you like to drive?"

Her smile was from ear to ear.

o**OO**o

John felt laughter build within his throat as Gabby shakily removed herself from the driver's seat.

"W-whoa!"

He coughed to cover the amusement and let Boomer go. The dog had been put in the space between his feet for his own safety; he happily leapt from the truck and ran for the store entrance.

"That car-"she jittered, the adrenaline in her system causing her pupils to dilate "-is a _beast_ to drive!"

He couldn't help it, John felt laughter, real laughter, rumble from his mouth. Gabby pointed a shaking finger at him and frowned. Only to join him in his laughter a few seconds later.

"Okay, I don't think that I will be driving in this _ever_ again."

"I agree."

Other people on the sidewalk eyed Gabby with confusion or amusement as she stumbled through the carpark. After seeing her nearly faceplant into a blue sedans back window, John held her steady and steered her forcefully towards the bench. Pushing her shoulder to make her sit.

Gabby let out a breath and forcefully calmed herself. After a minute, she was back to normal.

She took his offered hand and re-did her mussed up ponytail. Mumbling "Never again." Under her breath repeatedly.

"Thanks, John, but you are driving on the way back." She patted his arm and ordered Boomer to stay by the entrance. The dog laid down and watched them go inside with big blue eyes. John, in a moment of compassion, knelt down and ruffled his head before heading inside.

Gabby stopped by a small water fountain and began pointing out various stores.

"This is the biggest collection of shops in town, just about anything and everything is available here." Her hands moved in directions motions as she talked about different stores.

"You can get all of your food from Woolies..um, Woolworths, but fruit, veggies and meat is available at the farmers markets every Saturday, it's a tiny bit pricer, but fresher, more organic and better for the economy of the town." She pointedly ignored his knowing look, she loved this town and its people. "Fantastic Furniture is where we'll get you a new bed and anything else you think that you might need, clothes will be in K-mart, and if we can't get stuff to fit you-" she measured him up and estimated his size –"there is a UNSC outlet store further in."

She rubbed her hands together. "So, what bank are you with?"

John pulled out his wallet, empty except for his ID, drivers permit and bank card, and identified his bank as a private bank owned by the UNSC. Gabby whistled at the fancy looking card. "Wow." She muttered.

"_He must have been really important or high up to be with this bank."_

"It will be wiser to pay for anything over $200 with one of your cards, other than that you can pay in cash, have you ever withdrawn money before?"

A shake of his head was her answer. So Gabby explained how to use an ATM and went through the process of calculating Interest.

The world was so much easier when he did not have to worry about money.

According to Gabby however, he did not have to worry about money for the rest of his life so long as he did not go and purchase anything more than a few hundred thousand. It meant nothing to him though. Money was a foreign concept to him. All that he had ever needed was provided by the UNSC.

As the pair walked through various stores people sent them curious, but not unfriendly, glances. Gabby waved to certain people that she knew and kept chattering. He found her inane talk rather calming and at times rather humorous.

After purchasing a new bed, sheets, blankets and a pillow set, they moved into K-Mart. John really had no clue where to go or what to do so he just followed Gabby.

"Is there anything in particular that you need?" she asked while eyeing the mens clothing.

"Everything, to be honest."

If Gabby was daunted by the task she did not show it, in fact, she seemed to revel in her task. She made him bend over so that she could read the size of his shirt, humming a small sound of acknowledgement after reading the number.

John watched the blonde woman rummage through various racks of clothing and occasionally hold a shirt up to him to see if it suited him. At one point in time she mumbled that "orange was definitely not his color".

After nearly 20 minutes in the shirts she moved towards the pants and shorts section.

"Um…do you have a preference?" he noted that she seemed uncomfortable and looked to where she was pointing.

Underwear.

Fighting down a smile, John took her selected shirts and told her that he could handle this part. She flashed him a grateful smile and moved back towards the pants.

After twenty more minutes of selecting clothing, Gabby directed them towards the dressing rooms.

He only tried on a few shirts for sizes and the pants for Gabby's amusement.

"Blues and greens are definitely your color."

His brows rose at the admission.

"What?" she raised her hands in a mock surrender? "The blue goes great with your pale skin, and the green goes with your eyes and your skin."

His brows went higher.

"I did a year of Design in Fashion at the University of Sydney, old habits." She laughed.

"Fashion?" he went back into the stall and pulled the shirt off.

"Yup, after highschool I moved into the Inner Sydney area and went to Uni for a year before my parents died."

"I am sorry to hear that." He slipped his shirt back on.

"Don't be, they died a long time ago." Her voice was soft, almost too low for a normal person to hear.

John opened the door quietly and peered at Gabby. Her hazel eyes were glazed over and looking at the floor. Her shoulders had slumped and the very air just seemed less…happy. Her emotions were usually on her sleeve. Now, her face was blank.

He sat down beside her silently, merely providing his presence as some form of comfort. John was still quite unsure what to do though, so he did what Mendez, the closest thing to a father that all the Spartans had, told him to do.

He followed his gut.

o**OO**o

Gabby felt a heavy and very warm arm drape loosely over her shoulders. She inhaled shakily and blinked back tears from the sudden rush of memories that their conversation brought on. The body next to her was quite warm, and very welcoming. A rough thumb moved up and down on her upper arm, spreading more warmth through her suddenly cold body.

For some reason, she felt moisture prick at her eyes.

Fires on a cold day. Boomer sleeping at her feet. Her father's hugs before bedtime. Her mother's kisses every morning before school. The body next to her.

Warmth was comfort. Her disconnected mind sought comfort.

She leaned into the warmth. Into the comfort. The arm around her shoulders tightened.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Yeah yeah, a tad mushy at the end. REVIEW!_

_Pwease?_

_Razz_


	6. Chapter 6

_A few people have mentioned wanting the Covenant in the story, I would have replied to these reviews but they were anonymous. So, the Covenant as it was has been dissolved, the New Covenant will be explained and some species from the former Covenant will be in the story. The Elites will definitely be involved, Rtas and Thel (The Arbiter) will be involved, the Grunts will most likely be involved, Hunters are a maaaybe, Brutes….I dunno, they could be a good anti-hero or antagonist type thing._

_Secondly, John has retired, and unless a new war breaks out, he will remain that way. He may become a trainer or something like that, but he will not go back onto active 'imma kill you bitch' duty. However, if I/somebody can come up with a plausible reason for John to don his armor again (without having a war break out), he may go back to being Sparty boy for a while._

_**And to the anonymous reviewer 'Kris', if you are reading this please message me again with an email address or sign up with so that I can help you out! The 'sign up' link is in the top right hand corner of the screen.**_

_Whew! That was long! _

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbor is a Spartan**_

_**Six**_

Boomer huffed out a bored sigh. His master and the new giant male had been gone for at least two hours. The Great Dane found himself rather bored.

At least it wasn't raining.

Wait…scratch that.

His ears perked at the tell-tale pitter patter of raindrops on metal.

Boomers blue eyes glanced at the monster on wheels truck that had brought them down into town. He did not like it so far. The Dane was thankful that the giant male was so strong and had been holding him in the car securely to prevent him from flying out of the beast.

Boomer waited another twenty minutes. He saw people run in and out of the shopping complex, covering their heads with jackets and newspapers…oddly enough there were no umbrellas.

Huffing again, Boomer laid his head on his paws and resigned himself to more waiting.

o**OO**o

John felt the woman beside him heave a shuddering sigh. The protective cocoon that his body and arm provided seemed to offer the comfort he sought to give.

The two remained like this for a while, John sheltering the emotional woman from anything and everything.

When the voices of customers filtered just outside the changing rooms, Gabby's body shifted slightly, her head tilted towards the noise.

She exhaled heavily and mumbled something into his shoulder.

Even he had to strain to hear it.

"You're very warm."

John simply gave her shoulders a slight squeeze.

"….Thank you, John."

"You're welcome."

A small shudder ran through her body.

It was obvious that she had loved her parents dearly; their loss still hurt her to think about. Images of his Spartans, his brothers and sisters, Dr. Hasley, their mother, CPO Mendez, their father, flashed through his mind. The death of his Spartans had hurt him deeply. It still did, he supposed.

The voices became louder, it sounded like a group of older women. Going by the cackling and cracking voices that definitely sounded feminine.

Gabby cleared her throat and gave John a small smile.

"Let's go to the checkout."

Without another word the two stood up and picked up the mountain of clothes that Gabby had selected.

Upon Gabby's insistence, John also picked up a pair of thongs.

"You can't live in Australia and not own a pair of thongs." Her previous sadness seemed to lift from her shoulders as she found things to distract herself. "It's simply…un-Australian."

She shrugged, as if that explained everything.

The thongs he held in his hand were plain black and seemed like the most ridiculous piece of footwear he had ever seen. They could slip of and trip the wearer in an instant.

He didn't voice any of these to Gabby however.

They stood in line at the checkout, Gabby shifted on her feet awkwardly for a moment before speaking softly.

"Um, I'm sorry about…getting so emotional before, if it made you uncomfortable, I am really, really sorry."

John felt another smile twitch at his lips.

"There is no need to apologize."

She looked up at him with a grateful smile.

When it became their turn at the checkout the service lady, or check-out-chick as Gabby called them, eyed their pile with a small amount of shock. John unloaded his pile and the woman shook herself from the stupor. The monitor beeped after every item was scanned until all 24 items were placed into five bags.

"Gone on a bit of a shoppin' spree, Gabs?"

A crooked smile broke out on Gabby's face as she turned towards the perky voice.

"Liz!"

John watched as Gabby embraced a woman in the same uniform as the check-out-chick in a friendly hug. After brief pleasantries the heavily outlined eyes of Gabby's supposed friend drifted over to him. The dark brown, almost black eyes scanned him up and down. He felt as if he was being judged or being examined.

"Well well well, who is this?"

His sensitive ears detected that her voice had become deeper, huskier than before.

He also noticed that Gabby's eyebrow ticked minutely. She must have noticed the change too, but actually knew why she changed her voice.

"Liz, this is John, my new neighbor. John, this is Liz, a friend from highschool."

The buxom brunette fluttered her eyes at him and smiled slowly.

"It's a _pleasure _to meet you, John."

"Likewise, Liz." Her name tasted odd on his tongue. This woman unsettled him slightly…something was off about her.

Gabby seemed to be restraining herself from rolling her eyes and shifted so that she was behind Liz and out of her line of vision. Liz didn't seem to notice anything but him anyway and kept chattering, he found it somewhat annoying compared to Gabby's chatter.

Then, to his surprise, Gabby's hands moved into military signs.

'_Approach with caution.' _Her eyes were not completely serious, but there was a warning in there…why would she warn him to be cautious about her friend.

"So, are you new in town?" Liz relieved the check-out-chick and leaned forward with her crossed arms supporting her.

He saw Gabby finally relinquish and roll her eyes.

o**OO**o

"_Bloody Hell, Liz."_

Gabby fought down a sigh as Liz leaned forward in a way that did marvelous things for her cleavage.

While Liz continued to talk and flirt like there was no tomorrow with John, who seemed to either not be interested or not have a clue, Gabby mentally counted down till Liz did-

"So, would you like to come over for…_coffee _sometime?"

-that.

o**OO**o

John noticed that as soon as Liz spoke those words, and the word coffee somewhat suggestively, Gabby frantically signed for him to 'retreat!'.

After some lighting quick thinking, John placed his trust in Gabby.

"I am afraid that I will have to decline your offer, thank you for the invitation though."

Liz's face became somewhat downfallen at that, but her high pitched voice quickly assaulted his ear again.

"Well if you ever change your mind, here is my number." Her smile showed that her teeth had lipstick stuck to them.

It was hard for John not to mimic Gabby and roll his eyes.

He had clearly declined her offer and showed no amount of interest in her offer, yet she still persisted. John felt his respect for Gabby and the women in the UNSC that he had worked with rise a small amount.

He pocketed the card and picked up the shopping bags.

"It was nice to meet you." That was a stretch.

He heard Gabby stifle a snort before saying goodbye to her friend also.

Her feet tapped on the floor as she hurried to meet his quick strides. He wanted out of here.

"Your friend is quite…friendly."

Gabby snickered. "Never had an overly 'friendly' woman hit on you before?"

"No."

Gabby kept pace with him but seemed startled at this admission.

"Really? Never?" she steered them towards Woolworths.

"Never."

Gabby pulled out a trolley from the trolley bay and motioned for John to place their bags from K-mart in it. As she wheeled down the first isle a small frown wrinkled her brow.

"Wow, you must have had some nice, non-overly friendly girlfriends then."

John felt an odd feeling rise in his chest. Did he feel…embarrassed?

"Not exactly." He said slowly.

"Oh…" she blinked. "OH! Sorry, boyfriends then?"

Was it possible for a Spartan to blush?

"No."

"But…but then…" she stopped the trolley and looked up at him with an odd expression in her eyes. "Have you ever…gone on a date before? Had a partner?"

For some reason, John wanted to lie. Was there sadness in her eyes…for him?

"…..No, never."

The admission left him feeling vulnerable, like when he had first taken off his Mjolnr armor.

"I'm sorry if I am pushing the boundaries but, why?" her hazel eyes implored him for an answer.

How could he answer this without revealing his other identity?

"I never had the time to…date." It certainly was true. And anytime that he was off duty most of the marines avoided him. Preferring to keep their distance from the robotic killing machine. Sure, they were thankful for him in the field, but away from the fight…he was an outcast.

Gabby was at a loss for words. The woman patted his bicep softly and remained silent, rubbing her ring finger before pulling a few random items from the shelf.

After a minute of awkward silence, Gabby laughed softly.

"Well, I definitely do not recommend going to Liz's place for-" her fingers made air quotes-" "coffee" in that case."

That little part still had him confused.

"What did she mean by coffee?"

Gabby tripped over her own feet.

o**OO**o

"_Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God!" _she chanted mentally. _"Does he seriously not know what she meant?"_

Her hands gripped the handle of the trolley so tightly she was surprised that is hadn't snapped. Her face felt very cold and very hot at the same time.

"_Okay, you're an adult woman! You've talked about this dozens of times with others! It's an innocent enough question."_

The blonde woman met John's honestly confused gaze.

"Well, um-"she got a grip on herself and steadied her voice. If this was how she reacted to personal questions how would she get John to open up! "-Liz meant…sex, she was trying to seduce you before."

"_I am going to kill, Liz."_

o**OO**o

"Seduce me?"

Gabby blanched this time. "J-John, have…have you ever had sex?"

He slowly shook his head in the negative. "I have never been in a relationship of any romantic kind."

John understood the subject of sex from overhearing various conversations from marines. He knew what happened and the results of the action, but this seducing part left him confused. Was this dating thing a part of it? Like a court shipping phase?

"Do you know how everything works?"

Gabby's voice was different from before. Serious, calm, smooth, and both professional and friendly, it was far more welcoming than her stuttering blanching reaction from before. He glanced back at the blonde woman, her face had regained is normal tanned color and her hazel eyes remained cool.

"Vaguely."

Marines often exaggerated their kills, he assumed that they would have exaggerated their conquests as well. John doubted that anything they described was accurate.

"Okay…hmm," she tapped her chin in thought. "I have all my old Sex Ed. books from highschool, you can go through them and ask me anything else that you don't understand." she frowned again, "Didn't you learn about this in school?"

He didn't meet her inquiring gaze. "I did not go to school."

Gabby hummed in acknowledgement and let it go. They remained silent for the rest of the shopping trip, except for the occasional question over what foods John preferred. After the trolley was filled with enough food for the next week, and John had taken over pushing the trolley since he noticed she kept wincing and rolling her left shoulder, they got in line for the check-out.

"What is wrong with your shoulder?" he murmured softly when she rolled her shoulder again.

She waved off his concern with a smile. "I just pulled a muscle yesterday, nothing new."

He pushed the trolley forward with one hand as the line shortened and looked at Gabby with concern.

"Are you sure?"

The blonde woman rolled her eyes but laughed softly.

"I'm fine, a hot bath and a day or two and she'll be right."

"She'll be right?"

"Sorry, everything will be fine, Australian slang." She said apologetically and began to unload the trolley. John made to pick up the bread when Gabby slapped his hand away and made a clucking noise with her tongue.

"You don't want the bread to get squished under all the heavy stuff." Her voice was in an odd parental lecture type mode. "When unloading the trolley you put all of the cans and liquids on the counter first, then the boxed goods, _then_ the breads, eggs and squishy stuff. Anything soft and breakable goes up last so that it is put on top in the bags."

John followed her instructions and saw the check-out-chick fighting down a smile.

After it was all paid and done, John picked up the majority of the bags, Gabby's eyebrows rose to her hairline when he easily lifted all 12 packed shopping bags. The check-out-chick and Gabby exchanged a look, the check-out-chick then smiled and lifted her brows up and down suggestively. A small blush stained her cheeks.

They didn't realize that he noticed of course.

Gabby picked up the K-mart bags from the trolley and wheeled it back to the bay. The duo made their way back out of the store, John got several jealous looks from many men and several appreciative looks from several woman (and one man) as they made their way out. John ignored the looks and strode out into the damp air.

A very loud and happy bark greeted the two. Boomer nearly bowled Gabby over in his excitement.

"Ease off, Boomer!" she giggled as he jumped around them in circles like a ninja on crack.

The large dog stood stopped mid-pounce and seemed to vibrate with energy.

Gabby sighed and made for the Warthog, not that she knew that that is what it was, and placed the bags in the bed with the rest of John's purchases. John did the same with his shopping bags.

"Boomer gets really excited when it rains, unless there's thunder, then he freaks."

Her statement was proved true when the dog jumped up into the Hog and laid a big sloppy kiss upon John's shadowed cheek.

Gabby burst out laughing at his wide-eyed reaction.

John wiped the slobber from his face and evil eyed the dog. That saliva _smelt._

Gabby kept laughing while she pulled the tarp they had brought with them over the bed of the Hog to protect the goods from the rain. When John glared at the dog again, Gabby sighed in an amused manner.

She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wet it with some of the water that was steadily dripping from the edge of the sails that protected the cars from the sun and heat in summer. Thankfully they had also kept the Hog dry since it had no roof.

"Aww, it just means that he likes you." She reached up to clean his slobbered up cheek with the wet tissue. Instead of making it easier for her, John straightened his back and stretched to his full height.

"Hey!" she grumbled at his teasing smile. "Do you want me to clean his spit off or not?"

Laughing once, John leaned down so that she could reach his face.

"Thank you." Her sarcastic tone made him smile. Gabby wiped off Boomers spit, her hand scratching against the 5oclock shadow that dusted his jaw. "There, that wasn't so difficult now was it?"

The woman didn't give him a chance to answer and pulled herself into the passenger's seat.

John, in a slight daze, sat himself into the driver's seat.

He inserted the keys and pulled out of the park.

As he pulled onto the main road, John wondered why his cheek was tingling.

o**O**oo**O**o

_So the chemistry starts!_

_Your reviews mean everything to me guys! My friends and family are either not into FFiction or don't approve of it! You guys are all the support I get to keep writing! Oh, and I'm still looking for a Beta!_

_Razz_


	7. Chapter 7

_A quick thank-you too 'Blind Sniper', your review was very encouraging and straightforward. Thank you for the advice! Please my Anonymous reviewers, leave an email address or something so that I can thank you!_

_Sorry that this took a bit longer than the others. I had an epic migraine. _

_We see Gab's biatch side now. XD_

_Thanks for the reviews! Keep em coming!_

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbor is a Spartan**_

_**Seven**_

By the time the Warthog had reached Stirling Hill the rain had changed from a gentle sprinkle to a heavy downpour with gusts of freezing wind. The brakes squealed lightly when John slowed the beast down and parked before shutting the growling engine off. Boomer once again leapt from the truck and dashed for John's front porch, shaking his body free of water.

Gabby yanked the tarp off and picked up six of the bags, ignoring the jerk off pain in her shoulder from the weight and sharp movements.

"Grab the stuff before it gets wet!" She blinked water from her eyes and made a mad dash for the door. Her cold fingers fumbled with the keys (she had grabbed them from John), picked the bags up again and shouldered her way inside.

As if her words were cursed thunder boomed and lightening brightened the darkened sky for a nanosecond, the rain bucketed down so heavily that even he felt the water sting when it pelted his skin. Scooping up the rest of the bags, John briskly moved inside the house. The door was slammed shut behind him by the wind, the loud bang was drowned out by another roll of thunder.

A loud whine brought his attention to a soaked Boomer. The dog was hiding under John's kitchen table looking positively miserable. His earlier excitement caused by the rain long gone.

He set the bags down on the table and gave the dog a quick, comforting pat on the head. Boomer pushed his head into John's large hand and ceased whining. He smiled lightly at his success.

Leaving the dog, John turned to see Gabby rushing to put all of his groceries away. As if sensing his confusion, Gabby spoke; she didn't stop putting items away though.

"Sorry to rush outta here, but I didn't think it would storm this bad so soon." Using the back of her hand she wiped water from her face, the other hand swiftly placed two cans in a cupboard.

Her boots slipped on the wet floor and if John had not quickly grabbed her around the waist the blonde woman would have hit her head on the sink.

"Why are you rushing?" he steadied her and stepped away. Ignoring the light tingle that ran up his arms.

"I have to get home and check on the horses, they get jumpy and scared during storms." She was clearly worried about her animals, strain and distress evident in her voice. "Sometimes they get violent and hurt themselves, which can be really bad when they are confined to a stall."

Brown eyes looked out the window and observed the raging storm. The tall Gums bent under the force of the gales, the stockier trees had their leaves and smaller twigs torn from their branches. Water pounded the gravel and dirt, gathering in deep puddles. All in all…it was pretty darn bad out there.

"It is hardly safe enough for you to travel, even a short distance, outside."

"No, it's not safe, but those animals count on me." Gabby had an edge to her voice; it wasn't pleading or persuasive, it was hard and determined. John doubted that simple words would stop her. It was an admirable quality, but it was also reckless.

He moved beside the drenched woman and speedily placed the other items away.

"If you insist on going, I will accompany you."

Gabby sighed and made for the front door (seeing the last of the groceries put away) and left him in the kitchen.

"John, you don't have to do that, I can manage on my own. I have been for years." She reached for the handle.

In the next instant, several things happened.

Gabby twisted the door handle.

A fresh gale of wind bombarded the door, forcing it open.

The door swung into an unprepared Gabby with a loud _thud_.

Gabby took an ungraceful tumble to the ground, slipping in the water that had collected on the wooden floor and landing awkwardly on her ankle.

Unfortunately, John wasn't fast enough this time.

o**OO**o

Any curses that Gabby yelled were drowned out by the loud booms of thunder and Boomers panicked barks. The blonde woman felt sharp pain pulse in her left ankle.

Gabby, blinded by the water slapping into her face, saw a large, blurry figure force the door shut (with one hand to her astonishment) with a powerful shove.

The blonde woman wiped the water from her eyes, again, and attempted to push herself up. Air hissed in between her teeth when her ankle disagreed with the movement and made her pay for it.

'_Stupid little…'_

"You have probably sprained it." The calm voice of her neighbor said with a slight hint of concern.

She growled slightly and made to stand up again.

"Well-" She gasped. "-then I'll just have to grin and bear it."

Her thoughts right now were only concerned with her horses. A few years back one of her small ponies, fondly named Dusty because of his light brown coat, had gone ballistic during a storm and injured himself on the stall door.

She heard John sigh quietly and grip her upper arm. In one easy movement, Gabby was on her feet, albeit, most of her weight was being supported by John.

"You can't even walk." He said quite reasonably, she wasn't seeing reason right now though.

For the first time, Gabby felt slightly irritated towards her neighbor.

"Then I'll crawl. My horses come first."

o**OO**o

John admitted to himself that this woman was very stubborn. Very stubborn.

Her hazel eyes reminded him of one very brave pilot. One of the very, very few to survive the original Halo incident. Both would have been good Spartans.

But still-

"That would be a very foolish move."

It was hard not to feel some sympathy for the woman's plight. Her wet face was red from the cold and puffed up in irritation. He knew that she was really angered by the situation, and not by him.

Her declaration to crawl was certainly bold.

Boomer sidled up to his master and licked her cold hand, whining a few times. John loosened his grip to prove how weak her ankle was from the sprain. She winced and tried to steady herself.

Gabby looked at John, at Boomer, back to John, then back to Boomer. Finally after heaving an irritated sigh she conceded and instead to trying to support herself she held onto John's arm, easing the weight off of the twisted appendage.

"Fine, what do you suggest we do then?"

Keeping the bemused expression from his face, John gently picked the pouting woman up and set her down on a chair.

"I will tend to your ankle, then I will tend to your horses."

He pulled the soaked denim of Gabby's jeans up to mid calf and inspected the already swollen ankle.

"Do you know how to calm a skittish horse down during a storm?"

At this, John was stumped. Marines who lost it during a fight were enough to handle…how does one handle a half a ton horse lost in panic?

"I thought so." He looked up from her ankle and cocked an eyebrow at her smug tone.

Her expression became slightly bashful and apologetic.

"Sorry, when it comes to my horses I can be a real…bitch."

"Understandable."

"Yeah, it doesn't excuse me lashing out at you," she winced when John tested her ankle by moving it around at the joint. He pulled out the basic first aid kit he saw stashed under the kitchen sink while they were cleaning yesterday and began bandaging her ankle up. "They have become quite important to me, especially since hardly any people live out here. The animals become like family and friends." She pet Boomer fondly, the Dane laid his head in her lap and whined sympathetically. "Sometimes the best of friends."

John watched her face as it moved through different expressions. Regret, embarrassment, sadness, happiness and love. As she pet Boomer a gentle smile graced her face.

As his hands kept bandaging Gabby's ankle, John thought about his Spartans. He certainly got vicious if someone or something had threatened them.

Sliding the clip into place, John pulled the hem of her Jeans back down.

"So, how do you calm a skittish horse?"

o**OO**o

John ran his calloused fingers through the mane of a small grey splattered pony. The small horse snorted and calmed down under his ministrations. The small mares head barely reached his shoulder.

After another two minutes, the pony was nearly asleep.

The mare, named Frosty, was the last of the animals that had needed to be calmed.

After Gabby described, in length, how to calm each of the horses down and where to find what me might need, John had battled the rain and sprinted to the stables housing the horses.

Thankfully only a few of the ponies had needed to be soothed. None had injured themselves, which John was thankful for seeing how Gabby had warned him that if they were injured she would be coming down here, sprained ankle or not.

She definitely would have made a good, if not, an interesting Spartan. Or at least a good Marine.

Closing up the stables once more, John braced himself and burst into a sprint. It was a matter of seconds before he was outside his own house once more.

The rain had pelted his skin harshly, but not hard enough that it would bruise.

Coming back inside his house he noticed that several dingy towels were laid out in the hallway, soaking up all the rain water. Going in further, he found Gabby and Boomer sitting on a towel before his fire place.

Gabby had her ankle propped up on a dozing Boomer and her back resting against the coffee table.

While he was gone she had defied his request to stay still and mopped up the water and started a fire.

She certainly was amusing, he found.

"Are they okay?" she interrogated John as soon as she saw him.

"Fine, only Dusty, Spricket, Spark and Nickle were worked up."

She sighed in relief. "Awesome and…thanks for not getting angry when I got all bitchy."

John was about to chuckle lightly when a delightful aroma entered his nostrils.

He half heartedly glared at Gabby. She had cleaned up the water, started a fire and cooked food despite his warning to remain still.

She chuckled nervously. "I get restless when I know something needs doing but I can't do anything about it." Brushing her wet hair from her face, she offered him a smile.

"Just stay still now, your horses are fine."

This time she laughed.

"Sir, yes Sir!"

Chuckling, John stood and removed his soaked jacket, hanging it beside Gabby's on the clothes horse set up by the fireplace so it could dry.

It was then he noticed that her lips had a slight blue tint to them. Despite being by the fire she was still quite cold, small tremors caused her to hug herself for warmth.

"You need to get out of those clothes."

Needless to say, Gabby's reaction confused him.

o**OO**o

'_Say WHAT?'_

"P-pardon?"

Confused brown eyes met her startled hazel ones.

"Your lips are blue and your teeth are chattering, illness is a possibility if you don't change into warm and dry clothing." His head tilted to the side. "You may borrow my clothes and put yours by the fire, if you wish."

'_Oh.'_

"Right, um, okay."

Gabby stomped down on the fierce blush that would have flooded her cheeks as John gently helped her walk into his bedroom and motioned towards the bags from K-mart that she had put in here earlier after picking something for himself to wear. After a moment's thought he handed her a towel from the closet before leaving.

o**OO**o

Closing the door behind him, John wondered why Gabby had gotten so flustered.

Had he said something?

Had she misconstrued his comment about her clothes?

Thinking back to Liz and her 'coffee' suggestion, John believed that Gabby had misinterpreted the meaning behind his comment.

Deciding to leave it be, John moved into the bathroom and peeled off the soaked layer of clothing.

He ran a towel through his hair and wiped the moisture from his body before dressing in the soft pants and shirt that Gabby had picked out in the store. Dark blue tracksuit pants and a 'loose' white shirt. Gabby had found the biggest size possible and it still was quite fitting. Not that he minded. Most of his life had been spent inside skin tight body suits and armor.

He hung the wet clothes up on the clothing rack Gabby had set up by the fire and went into the kitchen.

Sniffing the delicious scents wafting from the microwaves made his stomach rumble loudly. Pulling two bowls out, John divided up the steaming soup and moved back into the warm lounge room. Placing the bowls on the table, he moved back to the door of his bedroom after hearing a muttered curse with his enhanced hearing.

His knuckles rapped on the door twice. "Are you alright?"

A sigh, then a small laugh. "I'm fine, John. It's just hard to dress with one ankle out of commission."

He thought to offer his help, but then remembered how flustered she had gotten when he said that she needed to take off her clothes and decided against it.

After hearing the woman curse and stumble about the room for a good minute, she finally opened the door. He raised his eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes at his amused expression. He chuckled and helped her back to the lounge room. She hung her wet clothes up beside her jacket and his clothes.

Since they had been gone, Boomer had decided to use the couch as his bed, thankfully his short fur had already dried from the fire. But it didn't look like the dog would be moving any time soon.

After her failed attempts to make the dog move, Gabby pulled out two pillows from underneath him and put them on the floor.

She sat down on one with her back resting on the couch and sighed contently.

Gabby looked quite comfortable in his clothes. It was quite humorous how she practically swam in them. The shirt acting more like a dress and the pants had to be constantly pulled up despite the fact that she had obviously pulled the cords as tight as she could.

Seating himself beside the woman, he reached over and pulled the foot rest over so that she could elevate her foot. After a murmured thanks, he passed her the warm soup, earning him another thanks, and began to eat his own.

The two remained in companionable silence while they ate. The sounds of Boomers snoring, the rumble of thunder and the harsh pounding of the rain filled the quiet.

John gazed into the warm flames of the fire and placed the empty bowl back onto the table. Now that they were not rushing to do anything a few questions began to form in his mind.

"Were you in the UNSC?"

The sudden question made Gabby blink into awareness, having lost herself into an odd state of consciousness as she watched the fire.

"Um, no." she turned to look at him, a perplexed look upon her face. "Why did you ask that?"

"Back in K-mart, you signed for me to 'Proceed with caution' and 'Retreat'."

A small laugh escaped her. "Right, the conversation with Liz," she snorted softly and settled back into the couch. "My mother was a pilot in the UNSC, she taught me all the hand signs and the basic hand to hand combat stuff-" a yawn interrupted her speech, "-when I was little."

"She served on her home world, Reach, for about five years before she met my Dad." She was looking at a random spot on the ceiling, so she did not see his face morph onto something nostalgic, Reach had been his home too. "They got pregnant with me and moved back to Earth with Dad's family, she got out just before the Covenant war started."

He 'hummed' softly in acknowledgment, simply letting her talk. Her voice was soothing and warm with memories.

"She told me lots of stories about her adventures to other worlds, so did my Uncle."

"Your Uncle was in the UNSC too?"

"Yup, only thing was, he didn't leave." She snorted a laugh. "He's a crazy guy, drives his Squad nuts with bad jokes, he told me lots of stories too."

"Oh really?"

"Really." She smiled up at him. "He told me about all the fights he was in, about the Covenant and about all of these 'amazing' kills he had gotten." She giggled, obviously remembering some of these tall tales. "But there was this one story I loved above aaaaall the others."

"And why did you like it above all the others?"

"Because, it wasn't about him or his Squad killing something, it was about him saving people and then all of them being saved." She propped her arm on the couch and rested her head on the closed fist. "He taught me a hand sign too, the only one I actually asked to learn as well."

"And what might that be?"

Without looking at him, she perfectly executed the hand sign.

His hear gave a powerful and painful throb.

It had been a Spartan smile.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Oooooh, Sparty smile ey? What could happen next hmm?_

_REVIEW!_

_Next up: Moar talking by the fireplace (romantic I know) and will Gabby finally get to know about our big Johnnys past? Stay tuned and find out!_

_Yo, that was lame XD_


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks to all of my lovely reviewers! You keep me going!_

_Ugh, I had a bit of trouble with this chapter (meaning I became unbelievably frustrated at times), so I would really appreciate feedback on this one! Please? _

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbor is a Spartan**_

_**Eight**_

A Spartan smile. Gabby had just shown him a Spartan smile.

Emotions, painful and unwanted, surged forward.

Regret. Loss. Failure. Solitude.

Swallowing thickly, John forced the feelings down.

He took a slow, calming breath and let all of the negative emotions fall away.

Spartan mode.

o**OO**o

Gabby felt the warmth of the fire seep into her cold muscles, it wasn't enough though. She wanted to move closer to the fire, curl up on the warm carpet and doze off for an afternoon nap, the hot soup in her belly only furthering her want to sleep.

However, her desires to sleep would have to wait. Her neighbor, and her friend, had suddenly just…slumped. His shoulders seemed to fall under a great weight. The weight of the world, of the whole Universe was on his shoulders.

When she opened her mouth to speak, another sudden change overtook him. His back and shoulders straightened, his scarred face lost any trace of emotion and became hard. Iron. Steel. Stone.

What had she done to get a reaction like this?

'_No, no that doesn't matter right now, I just need to distract him.'_

She shifted minutely so that she was closer to him. He was pretty warm too.

In K-mart, he had comforted her, now, it was her turn.

Gabby moved a little closer.

o**OO**o

John felt warmth, not caused by the fire, edge closer to his right side. Brown eyes flicked to the woman beside him. His eyes, hard and emotionless, softened at her somewhat, odd appearance.

Her frame was swamped by his very large clothes, yet he could still see the defined muscle that showed her physical lifestyle. She wasn't as well built as a woman in the Marines, but if she could wrestle with those 500 pound horses, John assumed that she could hold her own against a Marine, for a while. A short while.

Gabby rearranged the collar of the shirt as it slipped a little too far down her shoulder for her liking.

"Your Uncle was in the UNSC, what station was he?"

Her smile seemed to hold some relief when he spoke.

"ONI, for a fair few years, he was debilitated but had a wicked sharp mind."

"Debilitated how?" he was genuinely curious, his hard Spartan shell was ebbing away.

Her face scrunched up as she tried to remember the condition. He noticed that she had a dusting of pale freckles splattering her nose and cheeks.

"He had something called…Carbide Ceramic Bone Ossification, man, that hurt just to think about." She mumbled.

The name seemed familiar; he filed it away for later and tuned back in to her chatter.

"-but they managed to pull some medical marvels outta their asses and fixed him up, and one of his squad mates too." Her smile was gentle and grateful. "I didn't actually get to witness his first steps when he got his legs back, but every time he tells the story of being able to move again…I feel like I was there because of how happy he gets. I can tell that the whole situation changed him, even though I barely knew him until a few months ago." She sighed softly. "Anyway, after a fortnight of rehab he left ONI, joined up with the Marines and got placed out on one of the outer colony patrol ships, some planets weren't completely glassed apparently and have land for farming and stuff, but he was recalled a while ago and is getting reassigned to the Planetary Defense Grid smack dab above us."

Her hazel eyes tilted up, as if she could see through the ceiling and the miles and miles of space between them and the station.

"Where did he learn that hand sign?" the question was almost painful for John to ask.

"His friends taught it to him." She shrugged; the causality of it seemed slightly forced. He let it go, everyone was entitled to their secrets. The question still burned in his mind though.

He eyed her curiously and watched her jaw crack from another yawn.

"What about you? Where were you stationed?" her eyes drifted over to him, her cheek resting on her closed fist once more.

After briefly thinking about what he could reveal, he said, "I have been fighting the war since it began, I was never really stationed anywhere, just taken where I was needed."

Her eyed widened slightly at the admission, despite the vagueness of it. "Wow, you must have been quite the badass?"

He snorted softly, "I suppose so."

A roll of thunder shook the walls and the glass in the window frames. Gabby eyed the raging storm nervously.

"Sit still." He ordered. "Your horses will be fine."

She shifted agitatedly for a moment before huffing and settling down.

"What rank where you?"

He hesitated. "Master Chief Petty Officer."

She whistled. "Definitely a badass."

"Your Uncle?"

"Sergeant, he leads a squad of four, what about you? Ever lead a squad?"

Another pang in his chest.

"…Not for a long time." His knew that his voice was filled with a slight sense of remorse. He missed his Blue Team. His Spartans. Brothers and Sisters.

Gabby seemed to move closer while he was lost in his thoughts. Her far smaller hand reached over and spread out over his.

o**OO**o

Gabby saw the loss in John's eyes. The pain of losing a brother or sister in arms lingered in the brown depths. His scarred hand was limp under hers. She gave it a squeeze.

"You wanna tell me about them?"

His eyes, pools of brown, reflected the fire as they gazed at her.

"Why?"

The blonde woman smiled gently and, despite how uncomfortable the position was, she angled herself so that she was facing him fully (while keeping her foot elevated) and picked up the limp hand with both of hers. Her fingers massaged the calloused and scared appendage, soothing and calming, comforting and reassuring.

"Sometimes, talking about the past can make the future easier. You can think about people that have passed on without feeling like you're…" her lips pursed as she searched for the right word.

"Lost? Alone?" he supplied in a quiet baritone.

Her head dipped in acknowledgement. "Yes, just like that."

"How does talking about it help?"

This time her smile was full of wisdom and patience.

"It does, simply, because it does."

At his dubious look she rolled her eyes and said something a tad less confusing.

"Talking about the past can help ease the pain that we have experienced, we can remember the people that were special to us and relive the experiences that they shared with us. It's obvious that these people were very special to you, and you're still hurting over what happened to them, whether you want to admit it or not."

o**OO**o

John knew that there was truth in her words. Her fingers skillfully rubbed soothing circles into his hand.

"How about you tell me about one of your memories, and I'll tell you one of mine, and so on. Sound fair?"

He laughed once. "Sure."

Gabby nudged the footstool over so that she could get comfortable, before settling back and waiting for him to start, while still holding onto Johns' hand and keeping up the motions.

John wasn't really sure where to start. He had to be careful with what he told her. While some parts he did not want her to know, simply to hide his Spartan self, other parts where classified at the highest priority. After chewing on his thoughts for a moment, he chose to start off with Sam.

"My best friend's name was Sam." His lips quirked up at the corners. "He was my first and best friend." His heart thudded painfully but the slight smile stayed in place. "We grew up together and he was a part of my team…he died on a Covenant cruiser."

He felt Gabby's hand stop massaging his for a moment in favor of giving his hand a firm and reassuring squeeze.

"Tell me something about him."

Many memories played in his mind. He settled on a particularly fond one from when they were both around seven years old. He told Gabby about how he and Sam had snuck out of their bunks (of course he edited it so it didn't sound like he was living in a bootcamp) and snuck down to the river that ran through one of the more forest-like training fields. They had lain in the grass for hours and simply gazed at the stars. Pointing out and making up their own constellations. Creating stories and tales about what could lie beyond the human controlled systems. Making up worlds and creatures that only the imaginations of children could possibly conjure up. This was before humanity had met the Covenant, of course.

It was possibly one of his fondest memories. It was when they were still children, and although they were being trained into the ground, they still had the playful qualities of normal children. Gabby listened to him attentively, smiling when he smiled, laughing when he laughed.

"Your turn."

The blonde woman quickly launched into a story which, she said, was one of her favorites.

"On my 14th birthday, my parents got me my first motorbike. After my Dad's _long_ lecture I got to drive it around on the farm." Her fond smile turned sheepish. "I shot off for about 5 seconds before I crashed into a fence-" She chuckled softly "-I got catapulted over the fence and landed in a water trough." Her chuckle turned into a full blown laugh, he chuckled along with her, "My Dad flipped out and fell on his ass while climbing over to fence to get to me, Mum was just laughing along with me." Tears collected in her eyes she was laughing so hard.

After calming down, she motioned for him to go.

And so they talked. They traded storied of their childhoods and spoke of fond memories of those they had lost.

John told her about the members of his Blue team, of Johnson, of his adventures. Fred. Linda. Holly. More of Sam. Of many of his Spartans. Gabby was right, talking about them did indeed make him feel better. Lighter.

Gabby spoke of her mother and her father, of her friends (both living and dead), often regaling stories that had them both laughing at the end.

Laughter felt wonderful, he realized. It made his cheeks sore from smiling, his stomach ache from laughing so long. Never had he felt like this. Never had he smiled so much, or been this free with his emotions.

"My senior years of High School were some of the best years of my life, I have to admit. During Muck-Up day, um, the last day of real school before exams for Seniors," she added at his confused look, "We played some pranks on the rest of the school and the teachers."

"Like what, exactly?"

Her eyes filled with mischief and gained playful light.

"We filled the soap dispensers with blue food dye, half of the students had blue hands for a week, we set loose three of the pigs from one of the near farms and labeled them 1, 2 and 4, the teachers spent most of the day searching for the non-existent number 3." She cackled. "We wrapped up the Principles car in plastic food wrap and boy was she maaad, but she probably was more angry about what we had put _in_ her car…the cling wrap just prevented her from getting it all out for about an hour."

He raised a brow in silent question. She cleared her throat and giggled.

"We taped pages from porno magazines in the windows."

After working with Marines for so many years, John knew what a Porno magazine was.

They both stared at each other for a second, and then burst into laughter. Well, John's wasn't quite as loud or exuberant at Gabby's, but you get the picture.

o**OO**o

The thunder rolled again, not quite as close as before. The storm was moving away from Stirling Hill it seemed.

While still snickering, Gabby subtly watched the man sitting next to her. His brown eyes were no longer despondent or sad, they were warm and happy. His shoulders were relaxed, not tensed and taught.

"_I do believe that I deserve a pat on the back."_

Noticing that the fire needed to be fed more wood, John stood to throw in another log. The light of the fire seemed to soften the hard panes of his face. The slight stubble on his jaw was quite the norm on most men in farm country, many of the men who didn't spend their days hunched over a desk couldn't be bothered shaving more than a few times a month. Some of the older men had a bet to see who could grow the best beard by Christmas. But some men simply shouldn't grow beards, she thought privately, remembering some of the out of control face warmers she had seen. The light dusting of stubble suited John though. He seemed more rugged, in a handsome and manly way.

He knelt down and picked up a log with one hand and tossed it in calmly, prodding the brittle pieces of burnt wood around the fresh log so that it would light.

Gabby couldn't help but notice that the light of the fire made the corded muscles of his arms look even larger. The light casting shadows over him and adding further definition to his burly figure.

Bloody Hell he was a giant. Biceps bulged even at rest; the largest sized shirt in K-mart was still somewhat tight over his muscled torso. When John reached over and picked up a second log his shirt rode up again, showing the thick scar that slashed across his hip and snaked up his abdomen.

The light of the fire also reflected on the silvery scars that littered his arms. Another slashed across the left side of his neck, a thin and slightly raised line stretching from just under his ear to stopping just over the vital artery. The thought of seeing such a wound scared her terribly.

Blinking a few times, Gabby wondered where all of these thoughts were coming from.

John, satisfied with the fire, turned and moved to sit back down. With this, Gabby was able to see yet another scar. It ran across his right eye, it wasn't quite as raised as the others, but still…

How can one person live through so much pain?

o**OO**o

When John sat down, he found Gabby watching him with an unreadable expression. Her stare seemed to penetrate to something deep inside him, searching for answers and bursting with questions.

Just when the situation was becoming slightly uncomfortable, Gabby averted her eyes and softly traced one of the scars on his forearm.

"How did you do it?"

Her question left him perplexed.

"Do what, exactly?"

She sighed softly and ran her fingers over a thick scar that nearly ran from wrist to elbow left by a close call with an Energy Sword. Unluckily, it had been when his shields had depleted; luckily it had only nicked his arm.

"How did you keep fighting through all of it? All the death and pain." It sounded like she was honestly confused. Her fingers moved up to his bicep and ghosted over an old shrapnel wound from before they'd had shield technology. He tried to ignore the slight tingle that rose at the contact. "I really just don't know how you pulled through all of...this." she motioned to the scars.

He blinked a few times.

"It was my duty."

Her hazel eyes were still confused, but a slight amount of awe brightened them.

"I know that it was your duty, it was a lot of peoples duty, but I still don't understand how _you_ could keep going." She huffed a slightly frustrated breath. "I've never seen _anyone_ with so many scars."

He thought for a moment, trying to figure out a way to explain it to her. "Remember when even though you had sprained your ankle, you were going to crawl to your farm because your horses needed you?" she nodded once, "That is what it was like for me. I was depended on, and I couldn't stop, lay down and die." He noticed that at that last part she flinched minutely. "Humanity needed me, so I kept going."

She worried her lip, thinking his words over.

"You certainly are something, John." She murmured softly.

He smiled, and in an effort to lighten the mood-

"I'm also quite competitive, I hate to lose."

Gabby barked out a laugh, startling the asleep Boomer, and patted his hand. Her happy demeanor coming back full force.

"I suppose that you wouldn't be able to turn down a game of poker then?" she leaned forward and pulled out the small draw that sat underneath the coffee table's surface. "Frank and me would have a game every Friday night." She pulled out a slightly dusty box and opened it. A pack of cards and small blue, red and white disks were in separate bags. "You game?"

o**OO**o

Gabby's jaw hung slack from shock.

Her hand, a bloody Straight Flush, was beaten into the dirt by John's hand.

A fucking Royal Flush.

Growling softly, Gabby watch John collect his chips with a humored chuckle.

She had only taught him how to play the damn game 10 minutes ago and he was kicking her ass.

"I told you, I hate to lose."

Her glare was half-hearted, she found the situation slightly funny too.

"Damn fast learner too."

He flashed her a smile.

o**OO**o

John felt sleep tug at his senses. After a few more rounds of poker, which he mostly won, Gabby had sighed and told him to stop tormenting her and go make them dinner.

After successfully using the microwave and heating up two TV dinners, John had returned to see Gabby had turned the TV on (after packing up the cards and Poker chips).

While the two ate, they watched something from the 20th Century called "The Princess Bride", which Gabby found hilarious.

John chuckled along with her. In fact, he quite enjoyed watching something purely comedic and doing something so mundane compared to his past life.

The woman wiped a tear from her eye, "Man, they made movies so much better a couple hundred years ago." She said when the movie was over.

He couldn't really comment since this had been the first movie that he had seen. He looked forward to seeing more though.

Gabby stretched her arms and cracked her back.

"You might like the next one that they are playing, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, it's one of my favorites." Her eyes crinkled slightly as the corners as she smiled. "It's not like I can do anything with this ankle, so I'm stuck watching it anyway."

He glanced over at Gabby, the light of the TV and the light of the fire made her skin glow slightly in the growing dark.

John settled back further into the couch and stretched his arms out, feeling somewhat cramped from sitting in the same position for so long. He could remain stock still for hours if he had too, but right now, he didn't have too.

Gabby shifted slightly, her hair tickled his bicep.

Outside the storm continued to rage, having changed directions and come back at them full force.

The movie started and Gabby stifled a yawn.

He didn't think that either of them would see the end of the movie.

They barely got halfway through the movie before John felt Gabby's head fall back and rest on his arm. Her breathing was deep and even. She had fallen asleep.

Smiling softly, John picked the softly snoring woman up and, while being careful of her ankle, carried her to his room. Setting her down on the bed, he pulled the new bed sheets and thick comforter over her. She snuggled into the soft material and sighed peacefully in her sleep.

He made his way back into the lounge room and turned the TV off. Boomer was still spread out over the couch, so it looked like John was sleeping on the floor. The carpet was actually rather comfortable. The thick carpet had been warmed by the fire and was softer than the bunks on any cruiser.

Stretching out, John used his entwined hands as a pillow.

o**OO**o

_John was still unable to move when the mass of writhing green charged for him. _

_Legs made of stone. Arms made of lead. _

_The blue light, bright and powerful, came again, causing the voice to screech and retreat._

"_Mine!"_

_Another mass swing for him._

_A sword of light, pulsing and burning, sliced through the mass. Forcing it to back away._

"_Reclaimed, you will __**PERISH!**__"_

_It came from his left this time, hurtling towards him._

_A beam of red light, scorching and deadly, dissolved the mass._

"_No NO __**NO!**__"_

"_You will become nothing but a pile of __**ROTTEN FLESH!**__"_

_It came closer. Closer. Closer!_

_But his arms were still lead, his legs still stone._

_He was back in the cavern. The massive form of the Gravemind sat before him, it's tentacles waving around languidly._

_It chuckled, deeply and victoriously._

_It sent ice shooting down his spine. A heavy feeling settled in his gut._

_This was it._

_The end._

"_Mine!"_

_The tentacles shot forth, bring with them the assurance of his demise._

_But then-_

"_What? No! NO! __**NO! NO! NO!**__"_

_The Gravemind screeched as a light of gold, strong and unbreakable, burst from behind John. Bathing them both in a golden glow._

_Before his eyes the Gravemind writhed. It's flesh sizzled and blackened as if fire had ravaged its' body. Screaming, the Gravemind curled the pitiful tentacles around its main body in a vain attempt to protect itself. It did no good._

_The golden light dissolved the Gravemind._

_His fingers twitched._

o**O**oo**O**o

_Oorah for the mushy goodness! But is it moving too fast? Lemme know your thoughts in a review!_

_Whoever can guess who Gab's Uncle is will get a cookie!_

_And yes, Arby will be in sorta soon. Be patient, Grasshoppers._

_Also, I need more music to play while I type, suggestions of (preferably) soft songs with few lyrics (like Massive Attack and Movie Scores), lyrics distract me and I end up singing along, lol. GIMMIE!_

_Oh, and the dreams all mean something. Just to let you know ;)_

_Laters!_

_Razz_


	9. Chapter 9

_I have never gotten so many reviews for one chapter before…holy fragging shite! I love you guys!_

_Now that my ego had been sufficiently inflated, onwards!_

_Oh, and congrats too the peeps that correctly guessed who the mysterious Uncle of Gab's is! A few of you were very close to the right answer! All will be revealed in time, little ones._

_Enjoy!_

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbor is a Spartan**_

_**Nine**_

When Gabby woke the next morning she was very reluctant to move, or even open her eyes. It was pure bliss. Her bed felt softer and way more comfortable that usual. It even smelt different.

Had she changed the sheets? Used a different washing detergent? The questions drifted in the back of her mind, forgotten quickly and not given a second thought.

Inhaling deeply, Gabby stretched out all of her muscles out. Several satisfying cracks resulted from the action. However when her ankle that had been sprained the previous day moved just a tad too much a dull throb pulsed from the joint. Groaning softly, she rolled onto her stomach and buried her face into the soft, nice smelling pillow. The drowsy woman sighed sleepily and snuggled deeper into the warmth of the bed, her mind to hazy from sleep to realize that the bed was not her own.

Her body had begun to shutdown and regress back into slumber when a soft ringing brought her back. Mostly.

Mumbling a faint curse into the pillow she blindly reached out and groped the air until her hand fell on the buzzing device. Her hands fumbled for a moment, but eventually her fingers found the 'Answer Call' button.

She groggily mumbled a greeting, "H'llo?" her voice was thick with sleep. Blearily, she cracked open her sleep glazed eyes and glanced at her clock.

'_Wait a minute…'_

"John? Did you inhale helium?"

It was a rather sensual and feminine sounding voice that came from the phone as she stared at the clock that was definitely not hers.

"Um…this isn't John." She mumbled, jerking into a sitting position and staring at the room she was in with a wide-eyed stare.

Gabby could practically feel the woman on the other end of the line raise her eyebrows.

"So it would seem, who exactly might you be?" there was something in the woman's voice that made Gabby feel like she should feel embarrassed at being caught, despite that she hadn't been caught doing anything.

"Gabby, I'm um, John's neighbor." Clearing her throat, she regained her composure and in a much smoother and calmer voice continued, "Who might you be?"

"Cortana." The sensual voice was amused.

"Well, sorry for the mix-up, I'll go find John for you." A small hue of red flushed over her cheeks.

A smooth laugh answered her, "That would be much appreciated Gabby," a short pause, "I spoke to John a few days ago, he mentioned the help that you gave him…I just wanted to offer my thanks for taking care of him."

Gabby felt warmth pool in her heart at the sincere thanks as she awkwardly moved from the bed to the door, her balance off from having only just awakened and her sprained ankle weak, unable to support more than a few kilograms of her weight. "It was, and is, no problem, Cortana." She nearly fell on her ass as she reached the door and latched onto the handle of the door for support, managing to swallow the shrill cry of statement as she fell.

"How has he been?" Cortana inquired softly.

At this, Gabby stopped moving altogether and focused solely on her conversation with the other female. The concern in her voice was palpable and it just wouldn't be right for her to be distracted.

"He's better than he was when I first met him." She said carefully.

"How so?" Cortana sounded intrigued, eager to hear of her friend.

"Well, he doesn't look quite so…lost, anymore, I suppose you could say." She chewed her lip while she thought, "I got him to open up about his childhood, talk about his friends who died, it helped, I think. He seemed lighter afterwards." Even though Cortana couldn't see it, Gabby lifted her shoulders in a small shrug.

Cortana sighed, relief tinged with happiness. "That is wonderful news, would it bother you if I called you every now and then to see how he is?"

Even though it was slightly odd, it was also an understandable request.

"Sure thing."

o**OO**o

Even though it would have been very simple for her to pull Gabby's number from the civilian database, Cortana listened to the woman recite her phone number and stored the file away for later use.

The A.I was grateful, so very grateful, that John had a person in his new life like Gabby, or Gabriel Edwards as her birth certificate said.

Her holographic blue lips quirked at what her name meant.

Gabriel - the angelic messenger, the bearer of joy, truth, justice and love, granting wisdom and the interpreter of dreams.

Edwards - the guardian of prosperity and happiness.

'_Gabriel Edwards.'_

Cortana asked a few more questions about her Spartan friend. As the other woman talked the A.I suspected that John had not told her that he was a Spartan. It was obvious really, little things that Gabby left out that all added up to Cortana's suspicions.

She mulled over the woman and what she could do for their scared protector as she listened to Gabby stumble down the hallway in search of John.

A smile arose on her blue face.

'_Only your luck, John.' _She silently chuckled._ 'Only yours.'_

o**OO**o

John felt something wet and soft slap over his forehead repeatedly. He jerked awake and saw non-other than Boomer giving him an unwanted wake-up call. With his tongue.

Sighing, he gently pushed the eager dog away and sat up, wiping the slobber from his face with the back of his hand.

The dog barked and playfully nudged his shoulder with a wet nose. His lips lifted at the corners, the dog was just too happy and dopey looking to be mad at. His massive palm fitted over the Danes head as he gave Boomer an affectionate pat.

_Thud_

Both males turned to see a red-faced and ruffled Gabby slowly sliding down the wall. One hand gripped his phone, the other was desperately searching for a handhold of some sort. It found no purchase on the smooth cream colored wall and she continued to slide down the wall. Her short blonde hair was messed up and sticking out in haphazard directions. Her, well, his clothes, were rumpled from sleep.

He found that he rather liked seeing her in his clothes.

Before he could move, a soft bluish grey blur galloped past him and slid to a stop beside the flustered woman.

Puffing out a relieved breath, Gabby latched onto the giant dog and steadied herself.

"Thanks, Boomer." Her face flushed pink from embarrassment. She held out his phone, a sheepish smile graced her face. "Call for you."

Restraining his laughter, John closed the distance between them and relieved the woman from her burden. Taking the hand and helping her stand with an amused smirk got him a tiny glare from the blonde woman.

"It's Cortana, she's nice, by the way." She said as Boomer helped her waddle along into the kitchen, one hand pulled up the pants that were a dozen sizes too big for her. Smiling to himself, John put the phone to his ear

"I like her." Cortana said before he could get a word in.

He chuckled.

She made a similar noise before becoming serious.

"When we spoke I got the feeling that she doesn't know about the 117 part of you?"

The smile left his face. Reality hit him like a blow from a Tank Flood form. The giant rotting masses were easily the size of a Hunter.

"No, she does not."

"Are you going to tell her?"

Silence was her answer.

"I've seen her file John, she's smart, she _will_ figure it out eventually. If you're not the one that breaks it to her…well, she will probably feel upset that you weren't honest with her." The A.I's voice was gentle and wrought with reason. He knew that she was right.

"…John?" he looked up, Gabby was leaning out the kitchen entrance and holding up a can of instant coffee and a box of teabags.

A silent question was in her eyes.

Before answering, he looked at her, really looked at her. She stared at him with kindness, happiness, friendship and trust. Last night she fell asleep beside him, for many people, falling asleep so close to another person was a sign of trust. She trusted him.

But did he trust her?

"Coffee, please."

She smiled and wobbled back into the kitchen to brew said coffee.

Cortana mimicked clearing her throat.

"You're right."

He could feel her smile through the phone.

"I already knew that, but thanks anyway."

He smirked at her witty tone.

"So, care to explain why your neighbor is answering your phone at 8 in the morning?"

o**OO**o

Gabby hummed a nameless tune to herself while she brewed the vital life juice known as coffee. The very smell of the lovely drink helped her wake up. She added a sugar and milk to hers and stirred it in, leaving room for milk in Johns. Carrying the mugs to the table, she seated herself and sipped her steamy beverage.

Her ears picked up at the gravelly voice that came from the adjacent room every few seconds. John was still talking on the phone, she couldn't make out what he was saying, only the gentle rumble of his voice.

Cortana was certainly in interesting person. She was glad that John had another friend who cared about him so deeply.

When her mug was half full, or half empty, John stepped into the kitchen and took the only other seat at the table. He gulped down a mouthful of the still hot drink straight away, leaving it free of milk and sugar. Her brows rose at that, the liquid was just below scalding hot.

He seemed slightly distracted, or deep in thought as he took another mouthful of the dark brew.

Had he gotten some bad news?

"Is everything alright?" she question softly.

His eyes lost their dazed look and focused on her.

"Hmm, everything's fine."

He flashed her a small reassuring smile and she let it drop after a moment's hesitation. If he wanted, or needed, to tell her, he could.

They sat in companionable silence. Sipping coffee as the sun gently warmed the house and the birds sang their morning tunes. The storm had died at some point in the night and left the new day fresh and clear.

It would have been a beautiful day, if not for her stupid, swollen, sore, ankle.

Grumbling internally, the woman tried to figure out how she could get all of her chores done. Today she had to feed the horses, check the fences for damage, give Ivy and Jackson some exercise and she probably needed to check the bike for damage caused by being left out in the storm.

'_Stupid ankle.'_

Her sigh caught John's attention.

"Is your ankle bothering you?"

She snorted softly, "Yes and no." She traced the rim of her empty mug with a finger and rested her cheek on a closed fist. "I have a lot to do today, and I can't do most it on account of my bloody ruttin' ankle." She almost growled. Almost.

There was about 5 seconds of silence before John, in all his chivalry, gave her an offer that she could not refuse.

"Do you want my help?"

Inwardly, she sighed with great relief. Outwardly, she sent him a grateful smile. "Yes, please."

Nodding on consent, John drank the rest of his coffee in one swig and pulled plucked a large red apple from the fruit basket sitting on his table and went to his room to change.

Gabby, in the short time he had left her, managed to grab her clothes, move to the laundry room and get changed. As she wobbled outside the woman combed her fingers through her tangled blonde locks. Crouching awkwardly by her bike she inspected it for any damage. Her fingers pulled away a few of leaves and twigs that had gotten caught in the machine during the storm. While she kept up her close inspection, John emerged from the house with a fresh set of clothes and damp hair.

'_That was a bloody quick shower?'_ She thought to herself. He took the tarp still half attached to the beast of a car and shook it free of water and folded it up, stowing it under the seats for later use. Gabby noticed this and clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"If you leave it there while it is still wet it will grow mold or mildew and really stink, hang it over the railing."

He did as she advised and moved the tarp so it lay over the railing lining his front porch.

Blonde brows rose when John easily lifted the bike and carried to the bed of his beastly truck. He glanced at her expectantly when she didn't move, still marveling over the immense strength that he possessed. That bike was heavy!

Shaking her head, Gabby hobbled over to the passenger seat. A low whistle called the Great Dane from what he was doing (biting an itch on his leg) and he loped over. Reaching back, she thumped her hand on the edge of the trucks bed twice, Boomer did as she asked and leapt into the bed, sitting down as she had trained him to do when in the bed of a truck.

With that, they were off.

o**OO**o

John poured the last of the mixture of oats, grains and dried corn kernels into the feed trough attached to the stall wall. The small brown and white splotched pony in said stall nickered loudly and dug into the food.

His booted feet thudded softly on the wooden floor of the stables/barn as he moved to place the feed bucket back in the food storage room. Sacks and barrels were filled with different kinds of foods that Gabby mixed up into 'top notch tucker'. Hay for the stalls was stacked and covered in a corner, the majority of proper hay/alfalfa for the animals to eat was stored outside in another shed, however a few bales were stored in the stables for ease of access.

The building was filled with a musty smell, it was rather odd, but not unpleasantly so.

He moved over to where Gabby told him to meet her when he was done.

The blonde woman had changed her clothes and showered while he fed the animals and set them loose. She now wore her worn black cowboy hat. A ribbon of braided leather circled the headpiece, its tails dangling off the back.

Her hands skillfully prepared the tack for two of the larger horses. When she noticed him Gabby motioned for him to come over, slowly.

"This-" she patted the neck of the powerful looking stallion she was preparing "-is Jackson, and today he will be your ride." The two males eyed each other. The stallions deep brown gaze seemed to measure him up. Without saying a word, Gabby reach out, grabbed his hand and held it up for the horse to smell. The thick muscles in his neck moved under shiny black fur with powerful grace. Still eyeing him, Jackson snuffed at his offered hand. After a moment, the horse exhaled heavily and withdrew his head.

Was that good?

"Excellent, he likes you."

"Really?" he asked suspiciously. Eyeing the horse and the pure muscle he was composed of. Those hooves looked sharp.

Giggling, the woman patted his arm and moved to her own horse (still not answering his question). It was the dapple grey mare that he had seen her petting the day that he had come over for lunch.

"Ivy and Jackson need the exercise and I need to check the fence line for damage." She motioned to the extra bags attached to the saddle on Jackson, peeking inside he saw a few tools and several supplies, like nails and wire. "We'll probably have to make one or two repairs." She pulled a few straps tighter and gave the mare an affectionate pat.

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?"

A shake of his head answered her question.

"Just do as I do, and make sure to stay calm and don't get mad. Horses are very sensitive and if you get agitated, they will get agitated."

For the next 5 minutes, Gabby became an instructor to John. She was patient and instructive; he was a quick and eager learner. He listened attentively and carefully followed her instructions. John mimicked her movements and observed the way she spoke to the horse she sat upon. Even the slightest twitch of his legs was sensed by the large stallion he rode. Gabby congratulated him on his quick success when he had horse riding almost down pat, even going so far to say that 'It comes naturally to some people'. The comment made a small amount of pride swell in his chest. Finally he had a skill that was not fueled by the necessity to kill another being.

Soon the small group was off at a gentle canter and moving away from the stables. Gabby and her horse, Sparrow, took the lead and he dutifully followed. Boomer had been left behind at the farm, the dog had whined at being left, but all was forgiven when Gabby gave him a thick lamp shank to occupy him while they were gone.

John tugged gently on the reins as Gabby slowed Sparrow down to a walking pace, he pulled up beside her and saw her gaze firmly rooted on the fence.

"If you're hungry, there are some granola bars in the left saddlebag." She said without looking away from the fence. Her hands slipped into her own saddlebag and pulled out one of said bars, she munched on it slowly as her expert eyes observed the passing fence line. Feeling hunger himself, John began eating as well.

"Do you have to check the fences often?" he found himself asking. While the silence was comfortable, he honestly wished to become more sociable towards Gabby. The conversation from last night left him wanting to know more about his neighbor.

Shoulders lifted in a small shrug, "Not really, I usually only do it once a fortnight and after bad weather…in case of something like that."

He followed the direction her finger was pointing and saw that a large branch had fallen free during the storm, knocking loose one of the wooden beams.

The two dismounted, Gabby wincing minutely at the pain it caused her sprained ankle, and inspected the damage. It wasn't too bad, Gabby had surmised.

While John pulled the large branch free Gabby made good use of her tools and wire, easily fixing the beam back into place with minimal trouble.

"All of my horses are pretty tame and won't test the fences, but if they see a gap like that they'll get curious." She reasoned when he questioned if that were enough to fix the fence and prevent any of the animals from getting out.

They conducted several more repairs such as this, after the first few, John took over completely so that Gabby would stop irritating her ankle. Not that the action didn't irritate her.

He hid a smirk when the woman puffed up her cheeks and blew out a breath.

"I am feeling rather redundant now." She sighed, running her fingers through the mare's mane, much to the horse's pleasure.

Chuckling, John re-mounted Jackson and squeezed his calf's inwards, indicating to the horse to begin walking once more.

"That was the last repair anyway, thanks for the help today."

Her irritation was gone and replaced with sincere gratitude. He inclined his head and graced her with a small smile. "Anytime, it's actually rather…relaxing, what you do." He admitted. Working with the horses and submerging himself into the easy and almost mindless task of feeding the animals and conducting these simple repairs had allowed him to occupy his mind while also put him at ease.

A knowing smile was sent his way.

"I know how you feel; it's why I love my farm so much, it's just so relaxing most of the time." She inhaled gently, taking in all of the scents of the flowers and the distinct smell he had identified at the Gum tree leaves. "Feel free to drop by anytime, the extra set of hands is great." She half-heartedly joked.

"I will, in that case."

Her slightly stunned eyes flicked to him, "Seriously?"

He met her eyes, shadowed by the protective rim of her hat, "Quite, I don't have anything in particular to do anymore."

Hazel eyes filled with understanding, and then she smiled. "I welcome your help with open arms then." She laughed heartily. The ears of the horses swiveled back and forth at the noise.

The two drifted into a companionable silence as the horse's long legs ate the distance, quickly bringing them back to the stables. Dismounting, John followed Gabby's instructions and removed the tack from the horses, storing it away and letting the horses loose after watering them down.

Boomer, still occupied by the bone, didn't even acknowledge the two as they passed him.

"Lunch will be ready soon, have a seat in the lounge room, feel free to watch the TV." she limped into the kitchen after waving off his offer to help. Smiling to himself, John shook his head at her stubbornness and seated himself in the soft armchair.

Taking up on her offer, John turned the TV on and sat back.

Not really knowledgeable on what programs played during the day, John simply left it on the channel Gabby had it on previously. The news was on.

"_Tension has begun to rise in the already fragile connection between the Elites and Humanity, several people have made their feelings towards the Alliance known." _A slight frown wrinkled his brow, brown eyes became troubled and serious, _"Protests have often been located just outside the new Embassy's for the Elites. Law enforcement officials have had to resort to donning riot gear incase the protests get out of hand. As of yet, none of the protestors against the alliance have taken violent actions beyond the occasion verbal confrontation, but most say that it is only a matter of time."_

Gabby sat down in the opposite arm chair, handing him a plate of food, which he distractedly began to eat. A small frown appeared on her face as well.

"_The representative and spokesperson for the Elites, The Arbiter, has said that 'They will take no violent measures against the protestors, so long as they do not attempt to harm one of their own or one of those in favor of the Alliance.' The Arbiter expressed his wishes for there to be peace amongst the two races. Many of our viewers have said this to be impossible, even with Lord Admiral Hoods assurances._

_Back to your Paul._

_Thank you Lisa, and now onto other news…"_

John tuned out the next news story and chewed his food slowly. Even after such a long and bloody war, would some people really be so foolish to start up the fight again? They very thought of so many lives being wasted sickened him.

"They seem like a bunch of idiots to me." He looked at Gabby, her eyes were still watching the screen, but not really listening to the reporter drone on about the boom in the rabbit population. "The protestors I mean, are they seriously so stupid?" she scoffed lightly.

Carefully studying the woman, he found her to be honest. "So, are you for the Alliance then?" something inside him desperately wanted to know the answer. After all, despite their previous hate and violence towards one and other, he and the Arbiter were comrades. Friends even.

Her hazel eyes moved to meet his brown ones; they held a serious attitude to them. She seemed to recognize how important this was to him.

"Of course I am for it, after years of fighting it is simply ridiculous to throw away the peace we finally have. It's also insulting to those that have died to give us what we have now!" there was a familiar fire in her eyes, he recognized it from yesterday afternoon. "I can understand why some people would feel upset over the Alliance, but seriously, they need to get over themselves and think about what is best for everyone. Including the Elites, since it was them that saved our asses in the end...sorta."

That little speech had him fighting a smile, his respect for this woman had gone up and up throughout the rant.

"I agree."

She calmed down and took another bite.

" I'll admit, that at first I was dubious about the whole Alliance thing, I really didn't think that the Elites deserved to be forgiven…not one of my finest moments," she admitted with a blush, "But my Uncle helped me see reason," she tapped a photo frame on the coffee table without looking, "And looking back on humanities history, we have done the same thing in our past." He raised a brow in silent question as he reached for the picture. "We have killed thousands of our own in the name of our Gods and Goddesses, for far less at times. We are more alike than most people want to admit..."

She trailed off and looked at him worriedly. His hands had suddenly clenched, sending a spider web of cracks over the glass that protected the photo of Gabby and her Uncle.

"Hey…John?" she leaned over and poked him in the arm. Concern etched upon her tanned face.

He didn't even hear her. His mind reeled at what he was starting at.

In the picture was Gabby, her hair a few inches longer and a large smile upon her face, but what had him so stunned that time seemed to slow down was the grinning person standing beside her, a beefy arm thrown over her shoulders in an affectionate embrace.

He looked different from when he was a child, from when John had known him before he had been crippled and horribly disfigured. But now…now he had grown up, been cured of his crippling disfigurement and looked like any normal human. Despite the massive height difference and the few scars the littered his well muscled body.

Gabby's Uncle was none other than Kirk-018.

His Spartan brother.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Yeeew, an appearance from our fav blue chick and yes, that really is what Gab's name means. _

_Forgive me for any mistakes, it's 2am._

_Oh, and I hoped that you were pleasantly surprised about Gab's Uncle (those of you who did not correctly guess of course)._

_Review!_


	10. Chapter 10

_I do apologize for how long this chapter took me, life got in the way._

_And a special thank-you to Blind Sniper and Spartan Ninja._

_And a very special thank-you to VisualIDentificationZeta, without his badgering I do believe this would have taken a while longer to get up. :D _

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbor is a Spartan**_

_**Ten**_

Brown eyes, widened marginally with astonishment and wonder, starred at the small picture held within his hands.

Blonde hair, cut to the UNSC's regulation length. Grey eyes, full of life and strength. Thick, corded muscles rippling with power lined the tall 6.4 frame. He wasn't quite as tall or built as most Spartans had been (the augmentations _had_ failed) however, he was still rather burly and not at all vertically challenged. 'Sergeant Edwards' was sewn into the breast of his uniform.

A lightly tanned arm was curled gently around Gabby's far smaller shoulders. A testament to how much Kirk must have changed since John had known him. The vigorous emotional conditioning had nearly wiped all emotions from the Spartans, but the affection in the gesture that Kirk was showcasing proved that either the conditioning hadn't worked, or he had learnt and grown during his time at ONI and his more recent time with the Marines.

Pride, along with several other emotions (relief being the most prevalent) swelled in his chest. Kirk had been horribly disfigured by the augmentations. The Bone Ossification had warped his skeletal frame so badly that Kirk had needed to be placed in a giant tube of liquid. He remembered the image vividly. Both he and Rene had suffered from their bones being warped by the failed augmentations and the two were placed into the tubes of liquid so that they would survive and not be in crippling pain. Which for a Spartan, was pretty darn severe.

Now though…now Kirk was standing. Walking. Running around with a gun in his hands and leading a Squad. He was _alive_. In his hand he held hard _proof_ of that. He was being the Spartan he was meant to be. Kirk…was _alive!_ Kirk! His brother. His friend. His family. Alive! Living, breathing, running, jumping, talking, hugging, shooting…**alive!**

The tingle of adrenaline ran through his body. Pure joy and excitement at the prospect of actually seeing his brother in the flesh left him feeling far lighter than before.

Sure, there had been speculation about a small number of his Spartans. Many had really been _Missing In Action_. Holly, Linda, Fred and a small number of others had never had their deaths confirmed. There was always a possibility that they were alive. However slim the chance was, John never really gave up hope. Still…the proof in his hands…

A normal human would be shouting to the skies with joy, crying with relief and quite possibly jumping up and down on the spot with pure unadulterated happiness. But John merely let out a soft, relieved sigh. He wasn't quite so alone anymore.

It's not like he was alone in the first place though, he thought with an almost invisible smile.

A tanned face broke his line of vision with the photo.

"Oi! John!"

Judging by the concerned expression the blonde woman wore, she had been trying to get his attention for a while. He hadn't even noticed her get up from her chair and wobble over to where John was seated.

"Pardon?" he said somewhat apologetically.

Gabby's eyebrows met in a slight frown, worry and confusion played over her face.

"You did your zoning out thing…again." She leaned away and steadied herself on the fluffy arm of the chair, satisfied that she had his attention. "Care to explain why you looked like you were about to yell 'Eureka' at the top of your lungs?" hazel eyes roved over the cracked frame, a dark blonde brow quirked, "…and why you broke my frame?"

He hadn't shown his emotions _that_ clearly had he? He thought privately.

Gabby snorted bemusedly, the concern melting from her features; he could still tell she was worried though.

"I work with horses for a living, John. You have to be able to read their emotions otherwise you'll end up with a horse shoe planted in your backside. Most people are kinda like an open book to me after I know them for a short while. If I can read an animal, I can read you."

Well that left him feeling slightly vulnerable.

It also left him slightly impressed; being able to read a Spartans body language to such an extent was something many, many people had strived for. In a few short days, this woman was able to read him like a damn book. Kudos to Gabby.

"That is a great skill to have and…I apologize for the frame." His regret was true.

Gabby smiled gently and took the offered (albeit severely cracked) frame, running a thumb over the spiderwebs that ran through the glass.

"It's alright, I would still like an explanation though."

Expectant hazel eyes left the frame and settled on his. There was still worry, still concern for him…and it was only fair that he tell the truth.

Plus, Cortana was always right. Always.

John trusted the AI with his life.

He also found that he did trust Gabby, if not with his life, then at least with his true identity.

A deep, slow, calming breath filled his lungs with warm, slightly moist, air.

Nervous feelings fluttered around in his stomach, the lighter feelings left him and all that remained was a heavy feeling that weighed down upon him. Limbs felt heavy. Lungs were being constricted. His hearts rhythm sped up.

Another calming breath.

And another.

Why the Hell was he so nervous?

Another breath.

Just as he was about to take _another_ breath a warm hand landed on his forearm. At the touch, his heart slowed, his lungs filled with air, his limbs tingled back to life.

Breathe. Relax.

Cortana was always right.

o**OO**o

Gabby watched as John seemed to become almost as nervous as a boy asking his long time crush out. Emotions had a little party in his eyes, jumping about and making the poor man start some sort of deep-breathing exercise. The hand she laid on his arm had an immediate effect. It almost seemed to act as an anchor, steadying him and holding him down.

The first thing she thought was, quite succinctly, whoa.

What had caused _that_ reaction?

Wait…

The woman looked at the photo in her hand. The only things in the photo were her and-

"Your Uncle," John started, "I knew him, a long time ago. We grew up together, and we…trained together." Anxious brown eyes watched her carefully; he could practically see the cogs turning in her mind she guessed. Connecting the dots, so to speak. "I didn't know his as Kirk Edwards though…" a pause, a breath, "…I knew him as Krik-018, and he knew me as-"

"John-117."

He blinked.

She blinked.

Boomer trotted into the room and stole the crusts from Gabby's plate.

o**OO**o

John cleared his suddenly dry throat.

"Yes, 117 is my designation."

Cortana _was_ right.

"You're a Spartan?" Gabby sat down slowly.

He nodded.

Her reaction, was as follows.

"Huh," her face morphed into a thoughtful expression, arms crossed and fingers tapped rhythmically as her mind processed the big news. "It makes sense really."

'_What?'_

John straightened out his back and openly watched his rather surprising neighbor.

Cortana certainly was right.

"It does?"

The thoughtful expression never left her face, hazel eyes refocused and she smiled that gentle smile of hers.

"Yes indeedy, the dents in my car that mould to the shape of a closed fist…a very large one," she snickered in an amused manner and ticked off the point with a finger, "Your bloody huge, you didn't know anything about money, and I don't mean to be rude, but you know next to nothing about civi life." She shrugged apologetically, "Even people that joined the force as soon as they were legal know how to use a washing machine."

Her points were all correct and quite valid. It had barely taken her 10 seconds to connect all of the dots that he had left behind.

Hazel met brown.

Disbelief was in the brown.

This time, Gabby set her hand upon his knee. The small appendage barely covered the joint.

"Did you think I was going to run away in fright, or tell you to get out of my house? Or that I was going to hound you with endless questions and tell the nearest journalist?"

"…Yes." His admission was soft. John did not like how weak it made him seem.

Gabby's hazel eyes became sad and understanding. Her thumb moved back and forth in slow, soothing motions.

"Kirk is my Uncle, John, and I love him. It does not matter to me that he is a Spartan, it actually makes for some really great stories…the ones that aren't classified anyway." His lips quirked at her attempt to lighten up the situation. "I know that there are some idiots out there that have said unfavorable things about you and your Spartans," a small scowl from her then, "but I couldn't care less about any of that. You are, who you are, and that just happens to be John-117, Master Chief, pretty much the savior of the human race and the bringer of peace in the known Universe." John bit back a sigh at the massive title. He honestly preferred the plain and simple name, John. "You also happen to be my very nice and helpful neighbor and friend, John." At this, he smiled. Gabby chuckled lightly. "If you want to be just John, that's fine…but with me, you don't have to draw the line between John and 117. You are a Spartan, and you are John. Be both, be one, it doesn't matter, so long as you are happy." With a final pat, Gabby retracted her hand.

He missed the warmth of her hand immediately.

Pushing the thought away, John flashed Gabby a rather relieved grin.

"You are rather good with speeches, it would seem."

The blonde woman, who looked rather like Kirk now that he could compare the two, giggled and brushed some the her hair behind her ear.

"English was one of my best classes in High School, I aced most of the debates and persuasive speeches."

That explained a bit.

"And your other classes?"

"Agriculture, Health and Sports were my other good ones, I wasn't too bad at Biology but Art and Math…" she whistled and tsked, "Anything I drew looked like a two year olds scribble and Math, well…Math is just stupid." She grumbled, a faint blush stained her cheeks.

He chuckled. "Math is stupid?"

"Nothing in the normal or advanced classes applied to real life stuff," she huffed, "I have never needed to use the Hypotenuse or figure out where 'X' is."

A chuckle rumbled from his chest.

"Math has saved my life a number of times, it is not stupid."

"Says the man that is actually good at Math and is able to solve all of its evil spawn."

He snorted, all the tension leaving his frame.

"So…earlier you mentioned that your Uncle was being recalled and getting stationed in the Defense Grid?"

"Mmhmm." She purposely seemed to withhold the information that the woman knew that he wanted. He quirked a dark brow, she grinned mischievously, a little sparkle glittering in her hazel eyes.

The two were at a stalemate. John was fighting a smile, Gabby was holding back laughter.

Boomer started lapping water from Gabbys mug, having finished the crusts of the plate.

The clock upon the wall ticked in the silence, the T.V on mute. The seconds trudged by.

Finally, a muffled snort escaped Gabby. The odd noise was followed by bubbly giggles.

She wheezed slightly before calming down and relenting. "Kirk should be back within 6 weeks, give or take a few days. I have already booked my seat on the transport to the station they are dropping him of on." She answered his question before he could even ask it, "The _Atlas_ is his new station, would you like to tag along and surprise him with me?"

"Do you even need me to answer?"

She giggled some more.

o**OO**o

The two spoke for well over a few hours about their mutual friend Kirk. John spoke of their times growing up together (those that were not classified) and regaled some of the more light-hearted moments John and Kirk had shared. One being the time two had thrown home-made smoke bombs as one of the more vicious Drill Sergeants when the man had taken to physically punishing one of the Spartan trainees. Okay, so it wasn't really lighthearted, but it was funny seeing the man's nose vomit snot.

Gabby told him about how they met, a few years ago. Kirk had, quite simply, been lonely and curious, and using the vast resources at his disposal (having still been with ONI as he had not yet been healed of his Bone Ossification) had tracked down any blood relatives. Kirk had often wondered about his original family, as a child he would occasionally talk about how he was becoming a Spartan to protect his mother and sister. Even if they didn't know it. He still accepted the other Spartans and family, but Mendez and Halsey had never really replaced his parental figures, like most of the other Spartans.

John himself really couldn't remember much about his original family. The most that he could recall was a loving, soft voice and the gentle caress of a pair of warm arms surrounding him.

"…we traded emails for a long time, not really able to do anything more since he couldn't speak and there was no way we could meet in person." Gabby had stretched out on the couch, hands folded behind her head and her ankle elevated on the arm. The picture of comfort. "I only got the meet him in person several months ago, after he came to Earth to get treated for his Bone Ossification. Of course, he didn't actually tell me that he was coming to the Mother Land," the woman chuckled, "Instead he chose to surprise me and appeared on my doorstep with a pair of crutches and a bag of clothes."

"Is that why you are surprising him in the _Atlas_? Payback?"

She eyed him bemusedly, "Yes, it is why _we_ are surprising him. There is a reason why payback is called a bitch." A cackle this time, "I am definitely bringing a camera."

John chuckled along with her. The mischievous twinkle in her eyes added a childlike innocence to the woman. It was nice after so much death and grief.

"When did he tell you about who he was?"

"Well, he told me almost straight after appearing on my doorstep. Pretty much just said "Sorry that I didn't tell you earlier, but I am a Spartan."." she sighed and shook her head, "I just kinda sat there and after a minute said, "You're smaller than I expected.".

John really laughed this time.

Gabby blushed and sat up, "What was I supposed to say? Plus…he really was smaller than I expected, sure he was tall, but after the images shown on the news and the Memorial centre I really expected him to be…well, your size."

"Understandable." He chuckled out. There was no end to the amusement with this woman.

She made a noise that sound something like 'Pshyeah' and crossed her arms, "Anyway, in all seriousness, we sat down and talked for a long time. He couldn't really tell me much, and was pretty vague about life before Oni, I think it was hard for him to accept that he couldn't go off with all of you and fight, so it was mostly about me speaking about the other members of our family." John felt saddened by this, Kirk had probably known each time a Spartan was listed as MIA. It must have been torture to be in that tank, unable to do anything but work a computer. "After lots of talking, we pretty much just hung out together, when he could move about properly we went out to the coast and rented a pair of Jet Ski's for the day and went diving, generally we just did things family does…and I'm sure that we can do it all again when he gets back." Gabby said kindly, seeing the longing in his eyes.

"You being a Spartan explains why you reacted the way you did when I showed you the Spartan smile Kirk taught me…and technically his friends did teach it to him." He smirked.

"Quite true." John admitted. She was clever. The woman was crafty with her words. But now he had a question that he wanted straight answers for. "Did Kirk ever mention anything about the other Spartans?"

She seemed somewhat reluctant to give him the answer, "He said that he couldn't find any leads on the missing Spartans. I'm sorry but…he searched for months, he still looks when he can, but the only Spartans he knows of are you, him and his squad mate, Rene."

"Rene's alive too?" more happiness and pride filled his chest.

A small smile, "Yes, Rene had Bone Ossification like Kirk and when he came to Earth to get cured, so did Rene."

Two Spartans. Two alive and thriving Spartans.

And they would be here in 6 weeks.

Something akin to giddy excitement made a smile bloom upon his face. Gabby laughed rather loudly at his visage.

"I only met Rene briefly, but I liked what I saw. Nice person, quiet, almost the exact opposite of Kirk." She snorted.

Relief, so profound, washed over him in waves. He wasn't alone anymore. There were Spartans out there, and they were coming here. To him.

o**OO**o

Gabby felt something rather warm settle in her chest as she saw the sheer amount of relief and pure happiness fill her friends brown eyes. She had seen that lightness enter so many people's eyes. When they heard that their loved ones had survived and were returning home, when they picked up the phone and heard their other half's voice, their sons or daughters voice, their brothers or sisters voice.

It was something that had been sorely lacking as the war had progressed. It was even worse when the light left their eyes. Sometimes it was a letter, sometimes a phone call, an email, rarely, if ever, they were told in person of the death of their family member. It had happened to one of her teachers once.

Mrs. Richards had been going through her email while Gabby and the other students worked on their assignments.

Some people just stood or sat there in shock, some cried silently, others cried so hard it seemed as if their ribs would break.

But Mrs. Richards…she had _wailed._

Tears had poured out of her eyes and her screams had echoed through the whole school before the teacher next door had pulled her into the soundproofed music rooms and comforted the distraught woman.

Those cries had been filled with so much despair and heartbreak that it had forced many students to cry with her, despite the fact that none of them had been close to the teacher or her husband.

Gabby was so glad, so happy, that John had Kirk and Rene. And that Kirk and Rene had John.

Hazel eyes danced with laughter as the woman's mind created a number of scenarios in which the three Spartans reunited. It was only Gabby's imagination that made them so humorous.

'_Most people haven't ever met a Spartan,'_ she snorted mentally with bemusement, _'and I've met three.'_

Glancing at her companion, Gabby really could not wait for Kirk to come home.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Okay, Rene's gender isn't specified by any info sources that I used, so it's up to you guys (Rene is a unisex name BTW). Let me know in a review if you want Rene to be a boy or a girl Spartan. It won't really effect anything major in the story, but I thought I'd let you guys have a little fun. _

_The next update will be a little wait, it's nearing Christmas and I have a lot of stuff to do. I hope all of you have a great day too!_

_Another note, this story could be well over 35-40 chapters. Just letting ya'll know _

_Peace!_


	11. Chapter 11

_So, I got a death threat 'cause I haven't updated in 2 months so here is the next chapter! I really do apologize for the lateness, but it has been very rough since early January and I couldn't find it in m heart to right anything decent. I will __not__ give up the story, this, I promise._

_Thanks to my dear Beta's: HowAboutThisForAName and Corselli!  
_

_Enjoy!_

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbor is a Spartan**_

_**Eleven**_

John glanced at the grotesque, bloody and overall excruciatingly painful images and fought back a wince. The pictures, filled with blood and the screaming faces of both mother and babe, were difficult to look at, yet he couldn't look away. Eyes strayed towards the multiple doctors and nurses, each ignoring the camera that was in the OR and focusing on the frightening scene before them.

A slight shudder ran down his spine…and to think, the female population went through 9 months of mood-swings, abnormal cravings, morning sickness and various other unpleasant things just to build up to hours of painful contractions and an even more painful experience of pushing a freaking _person _out of themselves.

All John could think of was…why?

He had been burned by fire, scorched by plasma, shot with Needlers, Brute Spikes and even human weaponry, stabbed, punched, kicked, electrocuted, blown up and broken but _that_ looked painful.

His gaze drifted over to the blonde woman, whose attention was focused on a second textbook sitting before her. She leafed through it, marking pages that she deemed with important information on them. So far, they had covered the basics in John's decidedly lacking sexual education. The sexual organs, what they did…where they went…and just recently, hormones and pregnancy.

After learning exactly what woman went through simply to bear children, John had discovered that he was glad to be male. His eyes were helplessly drawn back down the birthing image…yes, he was very glad to be male.

"I've been told that it is the single most painful, yet fulfilling and magical moments of a woman's life." Brown eyes looked away from the dreaded picture at the slightly wistful tone. "Nothing compares to holding that goop covered baby for the first time…apparently."

John rose a brow in silent question, morphing his face into what he knew was a curious expression. How could _that…_be a magical moment? Seeing how Gabby wasn't even looking at him, but at the picture he was previously gazing at (albeit without his horror), he cleared his throat softly.

"Hmm, oh…" a slight dusting of pink made the sparse freckles on her cheeks and nose stand out, "Sorry, most of my friends have kids and they love to regale me in their tales of pain and adventure." The smile she plastered on seemed slightly forced, there seemed to be a hidden sadness and longing in her eyes.

"Gabby?"

She sighed and let the smile drop. John really didn't like seeing her so down, her demeanor was usually something calm and easy (or bright and energetic at times).

"Back in highschool…" she began, swallowing thickly, "I had my life planned out. I would graduate, then go to Uni and get my degree, after that I would get a job and work my way up to a decent paycheck and after I got that sorted I, well, I wanted to get settled and have a family…maybe three kids and a dog, with a few of those bug-eyed Goldfish thrown in." Her shoulders lifted in a small but heavy shrug, "But when my parents died I couldn't let the farm or the horses go…so I gave up on that and now…here I am."

A short spell of silence. John mulled over this new information. Was having a child, a family, really such an important thing for her? For a person such as him, who had what he needed provided (but nothing more than necessary), who had grown up with many people whom he considered brothers and sisters (but were never really children), who had never really seen the joy in the eyes of those re-united families (nor truly experienced it himself)…this whole family ideal that Gabby had confused him, making little sense in his mind.

"…You seem to have given up much just for your farm." He chose to reply with, still unsure of what he should say.

Hazel eyes looked at him calculatingly before drifting over to the window. "If you are asking me if I regret giving up on my plan…I'll tell you now that the answer is no. In hindsight, my plan probably wouldn't have panned out either way. This way though, I already have a home and a steady income…I just don't have the family to go with it all."

Was that supposed to be the silver lining? Pushing the questions and confusion aside, he focused.

"Has the farm kept you from socializing with any potential partners?"

The question hung in the air for almost a minute, John's eyes flickered down when Gabby rubbed her left ring finger…like she had in the store a few days ago. It made a small puzzle, one that he definitely wanted to solve.

"…No, it hasn't." The grumble had been very soft.

They remained in an almost awkward silence.

That was, until Gabby forcefully cleared her throat and tapped the book she was reading.

"This book has important information on several forms of protection against pregnancy and some of the STI's that they haven't been able to cure just yet, as well as AID's/HIV…the images are rather nightmarish."

And nightmarish they were.

o**OO**o

Gabby felt herself become very amused as John's slightly horrified expression became worse with each page he read and every image he saw (of course, to most people all they would see was a slight widening of the eyes, raising of the brows and parted lips).

She even giggled when he muttered-"I'll never be able to eat waffles again."-After seeing the infamous Blue Waffle. Nasty, nasty stuff.

Thankfully, those few infections and the like that science have not yet been able to remove (or had grown resistant to treatments) from the human population could all be treated easily enough. Unfortunately, some diseases and infections still remained stubbornly cureless. Cancer? Got a cure for that. Tumors? Got some funky therapy for those. Other big and overly worded diseases?

There's a pill and a shot for that.

Very few diseases were incurable these days, and even then, most had treatment to lessen discomfort or prevent the microbe's ability to spread.

"I would advise always keeping protection in the bedside table, in case you bring home a date…some people are too embarrassed to go to the doctor and get helped…or they just never notice."

John nodded faintly at her advice and moved from the medical text to the section of the small book which held all the information on various methods of protection. Amusement coursed through her again as the once expressionless man's face twisted into a number of odd emotions. Bafflement being one of them. The woman was hard pressed not to start giggling like a school girl.

With a mental snort, Gabby realized that she seemed to be experiencing a bloody mood swing. Five minutes ago she had been happy, serious and amused. Three minutes ago, she was downright depressed…and now she was feeling all bright and happy again.

While educating John in the world of sex was indeed fun and amusing (though for his sake she refrained from laughing), it also left her feeling very angry and sad at the same time. Angry, because John had clearly been deprived a vital part of his education, and he had been in that bloody Spartan bootcamp for a good few years and the sods hadn't bothered to explain a few things…good lord, puberty must have been a nightmare for the poor prepubescent's back then. It also made her sad because of the issues it had brought up with herself. Gabby would admit that when she was younger, far, far younger, she had 'designed' her perfect family. She had browsed through a list of her favorite names, picking out those she liked best. Though she had no artistic talent, her younger self had drawn a crude image of her dream house.

A faint, nostalgic smile quirked her lips up. Her 10 year old self had gushed over what her perfect partner would look like, what his job would be and what his personality would be like with her fellow girlfriends. Tall, dark and handsome was all the rage at the time.

Tucked deep away in the back of her closet, Gabby recalled there was an age worm shoebox painted in garish pinks and reds. Inside were all of the pictures she had drawn about her life after school. Pictures of wedding dresses torn from magazines, images of flowers, a photo of her mother and father standing outside the church they had tied the knot in.

She felt more than saw John's gaze flick away from the text book at her sad, dreamy sigh.

'_What a life I had planned…' _mentally sighing this time, Gabby pushed the slightly depressing ('_I'm giving myself emotional whiplash') _thoughts aside and focused on John, who had finished the last book. Resolutely closing it and setting it down (Looking rather relieved as he did so).

"So, any questions?"

He considered this for a moment, going over all the information he had learned. "Not really, everything was thoroughly explained in these." He tapped the small pile of texts with one long, calloused finger.

"Excellent." She gave him an honest smile before glancing at the clock mounted upon the wall and realizing with a start that four hours had passed. Her usual lunch hour had come and gone without her even noticing. Standing up from the small table in her kitchen, Gabby walked over to the fridge and became dismayed when she discovered that there was nothing to really make a decent meal with. Unless she and John wanted to eat sandwich spread out of the container and nibble on olives.

With a despondent sigh, Gabby closed the empty fridge and opened the cupboard. Again, she found nothing that could make a decent enough meal.

She really needed to go food shopping, it had been only a week and a half since her last trip…But, she realized, John and she had been eating together frequently, using up all the food rather quickly.

'_Well...bugger.'_

o**OO**o

John's sharp eyes easily picked up the small lines of frustration on Gabby's sunkissed face, adding the growls he could hear coming from her stomach and the lack of food, he easily understood that she was hungry. He was as well, the man realized when his own stomach made it's emptiness known.

John's own supply of food was low, while a normal person could have made what the two had purchased last a week and a half, it only lasted John and his massive appetite a few days. He felt guilt with his hunger, Gabby and he had shared a fair few meals the past week. John easily out-eating the smaller human's appetite.

"All the bloody stores are only open till 12 on Saturdays." The woman grumbled in an almost childlike manner, glaring at the clock which cheerfully showed the two that it was 1:30pm.

"Saturday," He said quietly, a thought occurring in remembrance of an old conversation, "You said that there are farmers markets on Saturdays?" The man questioned.

Gabby beamed a smile at him and snapped her thumb and middle finger together while managing to look exasperated at herself at the same time. "Can't believe that I didn't think of that!"

A small laugh rumbled out as Gabby ran for her keys and whistled for the Great Dane laying belly up on the lounge room floor. A small puddle of drool had accumulated on the dog matt he was sleeping on.

Boomer clambered to his feet and 'roofed' sleepily at his masters call, loping out the screen door when she nudged and then held it open with her butt, while simultaneously tugging her shoes on. The scene took less than 10 seconds. Leaving John still sitting at the table as the whirlwind duo leapt into the blonde woman's truck.

"Get your ass into gear, John! I'm hungry!" The shout came when he didn't immediately follow. The man purposely took his time as he pulled his shoes on and strode outside. She growled at his small smirk and revved the engine. Laughing outright, he pulled himself into the passenger seat and buckled in.

"Took your sweet time."

"My sincerest apologies."

Hazel eyes glanced at him with a dubious, but amused, expression.

"Your humor has reached new heights, pushing aside my righteous irritation and hunger, I am impressed."

Boomer showed his appreciation for John's developing humor by licking Johns head with his long, slobbery tongue.

o**OO**o

Gabby kept her foot off the accelerator as she lost herself to helpless laughter. John's first reaction was to freeze, face twisting into and mix between horror and resignation. One fat, slimy droplet of dog spit slowly dripped down the curve of his ear before sluggishly making its way down his neck.

A very fine shiver ran down Johns' spine and he took a deep breath through his nose, closing his expression off into something more neutral. Stony and collected.

Still laughing, with tears collecting in her eyes, the woman reached for the bag of wipes she kept stashed in the glove box. Always handy to have in the car in her line of work.

"Why must your dog continue to-ugh- _lick_ me?"

John's growled question was answered quickly and punctually by a second swipe with Boomers tongue.

The man's back stiffened further and one of his eyebrows began twitching.

Taking pity on the man, and fearing for her dogs health, Gabby pushed Boomer's head away and slid the back window of the truck's cab shut. In protest to being isolated in the tray, Boomer whined and decided to lick the window several times. Fogging up the glass and leaving slimy trails.

"Maybe you taste good?" she suggested jokingly in reply to his question.

A pained sigh rushed out, deflating his broad chest.

Chuckling, the woman passed him a wipe and pulled out of the long winding driveway.

"It wouldn't be the first time that something has tried to take bite out of me." He sighed again, vigorously scrubbing at his neck and ear with a handful of wipes.

The amusement quickly left her at that comment. Immediately knowing that the man was referring to one of his many, _many_ battles. It was still slightly hard for Gabby to realize that the man sitting beside her, grumbling about dog drool, had fought the most vicious and bloodthirsty beings in the universe. The fact that he was a Spartan was easy for Gabby the deal with, it was the trials that he had undergone that left her spinning.

She cleared her throat quietly.

Mentally shrugging, Gabby decided to just be blunt.

"Care to explain what that meant?"

o**OO**o

Berating himself mentally for the slipup, John cautiously watched the woman as she drove. Hazel eyes glanced over at him, curious and enquiring, for a second before returning to the road.

He had sensed no demand in her request, but he felt as if he owed to explain it to her. She had confided in him about her dreams for the future, something deeply personal.

But still…it was somewhat hard to simply 'spill' (as Gabby referred to it). The woman had quickly pieced together his other identity as The Master Chief. Connecting the dots of the few things the UNSC published about the Spartans deeds in ending the war. When he asked her how she found the connection between John and 117, Gabby told him that a number of documentaries had been aired about fallen soldiers of important battles, Master Chief 117 had been mentioned (and even shown) a fair number of times. That, coupled with his rank and his confirmation of being a Spartan had led her to the only reasonable conclusion. That he was 117.

It was simple really.

His motions with the damp cloth slowed as John thought about what he could share. The only sounds for several minutes were the loud growling of Gabby's truck and the occasional whines from Boomer.

He chose his words carefully.

"The Brutes were very…resourceful when they fought, especially in close quarters." The words were soft. "Occasionally they would slip into a Berserk mode and use their natural weapons..." Here he stopped for a moment.

"I've seen pictures of them…you mean their teeth and claws, right?"

He sensed that she already knew the answer to that, but was using the question the help him along.

"Yes, there was a time when my shields were down that one managed to pull my helmet off-

_The snarling Brute had nothing but bloodlust in its black, wild eyes as it charged at him. The bestial yowl it released echoed through the battle-scarred halls._

_John, still recovering from the explosion of several plasma grenades, leapt to the side just a second too late and the matted, furry and bloodied arm of the beast crashed into his side, further bruising the already battered flesh. The Brute managed to get a decent grip on his armor, something that would have been impossible had the MJOLNIR's shield re-charged, and pull John down to the ground._

_In the brief 10 seconds that it took for the armor to replenish the shields the Brute and John briefly but ferociously attempted to kill one and other. Spittle flew from the fanged mouth as it snapped inches from his visor. A deep, dark hunger roared in the deranged creatures eyes. Matching the Brutes growl, John snapped out his leg. The tell tale crunch of ribs breaking was of little consequence too the beast, its assault did not relent. In fact, the kick only seemed to spur the beast on._

_Both of Johns hands wrapped around the thick wrist of the Brute as a clawed hand gripped his neck in a deadly vice and _squeezed_ with enough force that he found it hard to inhale._

"_I will feast on your flesh, __**Demon**__!" it snarled in a brief moment of coherency._

_With that declaration, it reached out with its other hand and tore his helmet off. A triumphant and ravenous light filled the feral eyes, delighted to find nothing but scared, but soft, flesh underneath._

_Drooling jaws descended upon his exposed head when a brilliant, burning white blade sizzled through the Brutes chest. The teeth of the Brute, which had small bits of flesh from previous meals still stuck between them, stopped scarcely an inch from his face. Rancid air assaulted his nose._

_The Energy Sword was jerked violently and twisted, ensuring the Brutes death, before being retracted form the soon to be corpse. _

_Dying, the Brutes facial muscles twitched briefly before John was released and the Brute crumpled to the floor._

_Once he had regained his breath John gave a nod of thanks to the Elite._

"_Come Spartan, some of the soldiers may yet be saved from the filth." The Arbiter spoke in a smooth baritone, hiding his surprise at seeing the face behind the golden visor._ _Jamming his helmet back on, John nodded._

_There was still a war to be won after-all._

o**OO**o

Gabby fought down a shiver as John described his fight with the Brute. She was no fighter, that was for sure, and the mere thought of crossing one of those creatures was absolutely terrifying to her. Yet seated next to her was a man who had fought and killed hundreds, if not thousands, of the Brutes. Not to mention the even more horrific Flood…

She pushed the thoughts away.

"Well, Boomer won't try to eat you." She frowned internally at how her voice shook slightly at the last two words.

The man glanced over at her and snorted bemusedly. Not at all affected by the tale he had just recounted.

"So, the Arbiter, is he your friend?" It was common knowledge amongst the populace that the Arbiter and the Master Chief made an impressive, and nearly unstoppable, duo. Leaving carnage and destruction in their wake. Gabby had always been curious about whether or not a bond of comradeship, or friendship had developed between the two. Such bonds tended to form when one had to trust their life in the hands of another.

This time John's glance held something serious to it. Those deep, brown eyes seemed to evaluate her. Scrutinizing her tone and body language. Several long seconds passed before he quirked a smile (Gabby felt as if she had passed some sort of test at that).

"Yes, he is a good friend, one of the few beings that have seen the face behind my visor."

"Should I feel privileged to be one of these few?" she said in a semi-joking manner.

"…I suppose so, not many have seen me outside my armor and know who I am." At this, the man almost rolled his eyes it seemed.

"Well that just makes me feel special," She laughed good naturedly, "I'm all warm and fuzzy now."

John joined in on her laughter and finished cleaning up his face.

Unfortunately, his hair was now sporting a rather bad cow lick.

It could be classified as something of a maternal instinct, or a simple 'female thing', but Gabby really couldn't help but reach over (while they were stopped and a t-section, of course) and try to fix the rebellious hair.

o**OO**o

John saw a hand reach for his head out of his periphery vision and simply reacted.

He had barely registered that his hand was moving until the offending hand was already in his iron grasp.

It took his brain a short few seconds to catch up as stunned hazel eyes locked onto his.

Now, John had never sworn or cursed before, but right now he felt like a good swear or two would be appropriate.

That is, if Gabby had given him a chance to speak first.

"Whoa! Quick reflexes there, my friend." Her fingers wiggled theatrically, an impish grin on her face.

Very gently, he let her wrist go. Guilt welled up.

Of all the stupid things to-

His internal tirade at himself was cut off before it could even begin when the blonde woman reached out again and slowly threaded her fingers through his hair in soothing motions. All the muscles in his body stiffened at the foreign feeling. But in seconds Johns eyes had closed and he slipped into an almost meditative state. Calm replaced the worried frenzy his guilty mind had conjured. The skilled fingers worked through his coarse hair, doing…whatever. John didn't really care what she was doing because it felt amazing.

o**OO**o

Smiling gently, Gabby fixed up the outrageous cowlick that Boomer had created. Admittedly, she had truly been taken by surprise when her wrist was suddenly incased by Johns' massive hand. Years of training skittish horses had kept her from going straight to panic mode, and she knew, she just knew that John would feel badly about his reaction. Which was partly her fault after all, her questions had forced him to relive and remember some very violent memories.

But now, she thought with a giggle, he was two steps away from purring like a kitten. A very _big _kitten.

Satisfied with her hair styling abilities she removed her hand from the dark brown locks and pulled onto the main road.

o**OO**o

When the gentle hand stopped its massage like motions, John nearly frowned. He hadn't felt that content in a long time. Biting back a disappointed sigh, he opened his eyes.

Gabby had a small, almost amused smile playing upon her lips.

"Your hair doesn't look quite so bad now."

His scalp was still tingling from the contact.

"…Thanks?"

Hazel eyes lit up with good humor.

They remained in companionable silence for the remainder of the trip.

o**OO**o

The sun was warm on their backs as the pair wandered through the surprisingly large markets located in the town square, making use of the large grounds surrounding the school. Sharp brown eyes took in every detail of the bright stalls and their merchandise. A pair of elderly woman rattled on about their 'divine selection of sweet fragrances, soothing lotions and gentle soaps' while a man in yellow and black stall next to them proclaimed to have the 'best honey in all the universe'. There were stalls filled with clothes, knick-knacks, musical instruments, (some of which were being used to create a rather bouncy tune by some children from the local highschool) and other home-made items were displayed.

John found himself impressed by the subtle craftsman shift displayed by a carpenter. Ornate wooden posts and frames stood proudly, while smaller, delicate figures stood upon display tables. It looked difficult, his eyes gleamed with the prospect of having something new to challenge him. He would definitely come back later. The owner of the stall, a stocky man with tough looking skin, chewed on a toothpick as he carefully shaved wood and added to the feminine looking figure he was making from a dark colored wood. He looked up and eyed John, guarded, but not unfriendly. After a moment of evaluation, he nodded and returned to his work.

Gabby grabbed his wrist and dragged him straight to the food. John's large, imposing figure was not needed to make a path as Gabby skillfully nudged people out of their way. Many people waved or greeted the blonde woman as she passed; she didn't stop though, only offering smiles and similar greetings in return. The woman was on a mission. Food was calling.

After eating some simple but very tasty gravy and beef rolls (one and a half for Gabby, three and a half for John) they began to browse through the stalls. Boomer loped off and ended up getting the attention of several children. He was taken care of then.

" 'Ey, Gabby!"

The blonde woman tore her gaze away from the leather craft she was eyeing at the bellow, an easy smile forming.

"Rangi! Mate, how have you and Lani been?"

John watched curiously, the little extra feeling he felt was most certainly _not_ jealousy, as a dark skinned man pulled the smaller blonde woman into a tight embrace, lifting her off her feet and causing the woman the laugh and kick her legs till he put her down. The 'not-jealousy' flared up slightly at this…had Gabby greeted him with such a warm gesture yet…no. Damn, all these new emotions were confusing.

"We'v bin gud, 'ow 'ave yu bin?"

Blinking at the accent, John was quick to piece together exactly what the tall (though not as tall as him, he thought) and burly (though not as burly as him too, he added) man had said.

"I've been great, did Tui get off to a good start at her new school?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

A loud belly laugh accompanied the answer, "She wus shakin' in 'er boots!"

"Of course she was, you big bully!"she scolded lightly, "the first day of high school is terrifying!"

"Aww, yu know we didn' tease 'er…much." He added sheepishly at her dubious and accusing look.

Rolling her eyes, Gabby motioned for John to join them.

Rangi noticed him then (satisfaction coursed through him when the man's light brown eyes bugged at his sheer size). He most likely used to meeting someone larger than himself, being quite tall and burly for an unenhanced human. Tattoos covered his arms, disappearing into the sleeves of his t-shirt. All in all, he would have been intimidating for anyone but John.

"Rangi, this is John, my new neighbor and friend. John, this is Rangi, a very old family friend."

The men shook hands and eyed, not glared, they would both later argue, the other male.

o**OO**o

Gabby rolled her eyes at the testosterone fueled greeting.

'_Men.'_

She noticed Rangi's white knuckled grip on Johns barely flexing hand.

'_If only you knew, Rangi.'_

After a good long and manly handshake the two withdrew. Rangi subtly stretching his sore hand.

She could tell that John was hiding a smirk. After further inspection of the other man, Rangi finally eased into a friendly smile, obviously finding what he needed.

"Nice t' meet yu bru."

John's lips twitched up into a half smile, his demeanor changing from an intimidating soldier to a far more friendly and relaxed person. For which she was grateful. The woman didn't need them become nasty with each other.

"Likewise, Rangi."

Both men had the grace to seem somewhat bashful when the woman let out a rather large sigh of relief.

"Now that _that_ is over, how about we go buy some much needed food?"

"Forget t' go shoppin' again?" Rangi teased lightly, laughing when red rose on her cheeks and her stomach growled loudly.

"Ass." She growled playfully at the man she considered a second father. Rolling her eyes when he threw his head back and laughed loudly, startling a pair of bleached blonds walking past. She snickered as their stifled shrieks, and growled when they looked the two men up and down in a _very_ suggestive manner. Rangi hid his age well with his footballers physique. When their lined eyes turned to John, they nearly popped out of their skulls, causing the woman to snort. Both men were easily twice their age. When the girls caught her almost glaring at them, they blushed and ran off. One looked back and gave her a wink and a thumbs up, before laughing at her startled look.

'_Teenagers.'_ She grumbled, not noticing Rangi's very amused look and John's curious one. The woman walked away from them and moved towards the area where all the stores with bulk food items.

Behind her, the men shared an amused look. The not-quite-friends-but-acquaintances smoothly caught up with the woman, taking up positions either side of her. Making her feel very small.

She sighed minutely at the height difference.

'_It sucks to be so small sometimes.'_

o**O**oo**O**o

_Apologies for the lateness of the update._ _This chapter was frustrating to write, I would really appreciate feedback. It has also been suggested that John should have a job of some sort, I agree wholeheartedly, but am at a loss of what John could do. Your opinions will be welcomed with open arms and rewarded with cookies!_

_Rangi and his family are all New Zealanders (Maori's), and their accents really chop up the dialogue…pissed off spellcheck. I just wanted to authenticate their homeland and origins, it is not at all racist._

_I watched so many 'Flight of the Conchords' clips on YouTube for the bloody accent (tis a funny show, go watch it!)._

_Review!_

_Laters_

_Razz_


	12. Chapter 12

_So…you guys broke 200 reviews…in 11 chapters…Hoooooo-lyyyyyyy-SHIIIIIIIIT!_

_You guys are AWESOME! Thank you all so so so much!_

_*explodes with happiness*_

_The Beta-ed version will be uploaded asap, for now, this will do.  
_

_And I am terribly sorry about the length between updates but I had three members of my family die recently and it just made life very hectic and hard for a while. Thanks for the patience and the support._

_I also just wanted to mention that I update my profile at least once a week, check there for the status of updates and what's happenin' with lil' old me._

_ENJOY!  
_

o**O**oo**O**o

Humans were stubborn, the irritated thought came, and full of such burning anger and blinding fury that it left him worn at the end of the day. More so than anything he had ever done before. Training, missions, days of fighting with merely hours rest in between left him tired and exhausted, but dealing with these humans, these _protesters,_ left him so drained both mentally and physically that he found it hard to leave the safe confines of his office after a particularly trying day. Reining in his temper, swallowing comebacks from vicious barbs and threats, fighting political battles with convoluted sentences day after day was just so _exhausting__._

With a heavy and wear laden sigh the Elite released his pent up frustration at the irate humans protesting outside of the Sangheili Embassy grounds. They rallied in groups, raising painted signs and chanted annoyingly catchy phrases, singing their feelings towards the Human-Elite Alliance. Obviously, those feelings were negative.

Orange eyes with reptilian slits glanced down at the protesters through the reflective glass of the observation deck just off to the side of his personal office, as the humans called it. The crowd had grown quickly.

It had started with five people, then ten, twenty and now, a week later over sixty humans stood outside. Cursing his very species and screeching for his kind to be banished from the Sol system (or be exterminated altogether).

"_Send them away or make them pay!"_

Even though he was so, _so_ damn frustrated with these humans…he couldn't really blame them for their anger. It was rightly placed.

The Sanghelli, his people, had blindly followed the raving 'Profits' and slaughtered, butchered and massacred millions upon _billions_ of humans. Women, children, injured, elderly and soldier alike had been shown no mercy. Given no chance. Nothing.

In their eyes, the death or banishment of the Elites would be justice.

"_The Elite-Human Alliance has no reliance!"_

Another heavy sigh.

"_Blood paid for blood spilt!"_

The Arbiter really couldn't blame them.

However he would still walk with his head held high! He would never show his increasing feelings of defeat and his diminishing hope for peace in front of the other Elites brave enough to be stationed here with him.

With a light snarl, flashing gleaming white rows of fangs, Thel Vadumee, straightened his back into an unyielding and strong stance.

He would never allow them to see his weakness. The cracks in his defense. The growing faults in his armor.

This was all because he was the Arbiter. He was their leader. The one his brothers looked to for guidance, endlessly trusting the Sangheili leader to march them, their people, towards a brighter future.

Though, despite his brave and proud front it still stung when he released that ten more people had joined the cluster of protesters below.

Hope was fading, and he didn't know what to do.

o**OO**o

"Bullucks, Gab's, t' All Blacks will destroy t' Swans! Dey got Kingston as deir capt'in, he aint gonna loose t' some pussy _Swans_!" The name was spat out like it was poison.

As it turned out, Gabby was an avid AFL fan when it came to her two favorite teams. The Sydney Swans and, come State of Origin time, the New South Wales team, The Blues.

"Pfft, Kingston's plays are absolute bullfudge, and he's complete moron!" Her hand sliced through the air sharply, a spark lighting up her hazel eyes.

"'E bloody Hell aint!" Rangi retorted hotly. The dark man ground out his answers and Gabby continuously scowled at the man, if it were not for the amused light in both parties eyes John would have thought this a real fight and considered intervening.

Her eyes rolled heavenward. "Last year he was caught playing helicopter with his dong in the middle of a friggin' hay feild."

"…So?"

She smirked. "He had a beer helmet on and was singing the national anthem."

"…"

She went in for the kill.

"After streaking through the town on horseback yelling 'The British are coming!"

Rangi blew out a long breath, defeated.

"T' Swans are st'll a pussy team." He grouched, crossing his arms over his broad chest (a defensive gesture if John ever saw one).

As Gabby got into debate mode, preparing to defend her team once more, John did a quick scan of their surroundings, taking no small amount of delight in being able to observe and partake in something so absolutely mundane yet different and exciting. Attending a farmers market was a new experience for John, and he was thoroughly enjoying it.

As they rounded a corner, John noticed they had come across the fresh produce section. Rows upon rows of stall brimmed with bright fruits and vegetables, others had spices and herbs that filled the air with a delicious scents. There was a home-made yogurt and ice-cream stall which had a large number of children milling about it. Another stand had jars upon jars of relishes and sauces. Towards the end, hooked up to small generators were fresh meats and fish that were caught that day.

Finishing her rant, much to Rangi's obvious relief, Gabby smoothly weaved through the throngs of people and inspected the produce.

o**OO**o

Forty minutes after walking into the produce section the two with empty fridges had finally made their final purchase. Johns', Rangis' and her own arms were laden with bags or carrying boxes full of food. Knowing that it would be slightly suspicious if John were seen carrying the four stacked crates of fruit and vegetables much longer without showing any strain Gabby made for her truck, telling both men that her arms were going to fall off if they didn't hurry, causing Rangi to laugh. Gabby refrained from throwing a potato at his stupid shiny head.

Setting their spoils in the bed of the truck, Gabby secured everything down before pulling a tarp over the food to protect it.

Rangi, who was holding the meats and milk, opened up Gabby's truck, pulling the passenger seat down and leaning in behind the seats before fiddling with a latch of some sort. He opened a lid and set all the cold meats and drinks inside, flicking a switch before closing it.

Gabby noticed John's slightly curious glance.

"It's like a temporary fridge." She stated while securing the tarp, smiling when those deep brown eyes flicked over and met hers. "Most two seater trucks have them in the cab, behind the seats, others have them on the tray. It's great for when I have to go far back on the property or camping, keeps lunch cold."

Johns' head tilted slightly to the side, before thanking her softly for answering his unspoken question. Stifling a girlish giggle, Gabby couldn't help but thing that the big guy was very cute when he did that head tilt thing. Not that she would ever tell him that. Ever.

Once everything was secured and Rangi handed her back the keys to the truck, Gabby tapped her lip, remembering that she needed to pick up a few other things.

"Somethin' up, Gab's?" Rangi asked, ruffling her hair like he had since she was a child. Batting his hand away in a semi-irritated manner she answered.

"I have to buy a new bit for Ivy and place an order with James for horse feed." The blonde woman smiled and made shooing motions with her hands. "You two can go wonder through the stalls."

Rangi chortled and enveloped with woman in a hug. A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes when she reached up and placed a gentle kiss upon his cheek. Both missed the very slight narrowing of a pair of brown eyes.

"T' fam's gettin' t'gther for a barbeque dinner t'mrrow, by t' river." He briefly paused and seemed to consider something. "You 'nd John sh'uld both come." Another warm smile as he ruffled her hair, again. "Tui 'nd Lani miss ya, so do t' boys."

She glanced at John, already knowing that she would go but not sure if he would. A smile formed when he inclined his head.

"We'll both be there, when?"

"Two, we'll be skiin' 'nd Paul is bringin' his sporty stuff too."

"Sounds like a fun afternoon!"

Stepping away from Rangi, the woman waved goodbye to the man and walked off towards where the sounds and smells of animals emanated from.

She stopped briefly by her tall, tall companion and bumped her shoulder with his bicep (because she couldn't reach any higher without lifting her arms). "Don't get into any trouble-" a light quirk of the lips from him at this "-I'll be back in about an hour. Surely you two can occupy yourselves until then?"

Suddenly, the woman felt a flash of anxiety creep up her spine. She was leaving them alone…together…and that made her nervous. Why? The woman didn't know.

Rangi rolled his eyes. "No need t' mother-hen us, Gab's, we're big boys!"

Hazel eyes swept over the two large frames standing beside her. Big boys indeed.

"Fine fine, see you both in a bit!"

With one last anxious glance, she still couldn't figure out why she was feeling so anxious, the woman trekked over to the hand crafted tack stall.

Why did she feel like she was leaving one of the boys too their doom?

o**OO**o

John watched Gabby walk off until she was swallowed by the crowds.

Heavy footsteps signaled that Rangi moved closer. Turning, he met the man's evaluating and suddenly serious gaze.

The mans eyes swept over the people around them for the briefest of moments before they rested on him again. Assessing. Calculating. An undertone of worry was there as well, for him or someone else he was not sure.

John waited patiently for the other to make the first move, whatever it may be.

Finally, he spoke.

"Gab's is like my own kid, understand?"

Despite his confusion and slight bewilderment, he answered. "Yes."

Rangi nodded, hands resting on his hips. "Gud, I don' mean t' pry but t' be honest, u are a big fella, 'nd I just w'nt t' know if ya taken' drugs t' get that big?"

A brow rose at this. The man thought that he took drugs? With a mental snort, John decided that he couldn't blame the man for coming to that conclusion. People just were not this tall and built without assistance of drugs of enhancements, and not all were privileged to the knowledge of his Spartan past. Enhancement drugs of any kind were not allowed in the UNSC unless prescribed by the Doctors or Medics…or super secret projects for creating super enhanced soldiers.

Something warm and reassuring settled in his chest when he realized that Rangi was asking such a bold and personal question out of concern for Gabby, whom he apparently cared for deeply enough to put his health on the line (as most users tended to lash out, physically and verbally, when questioned). It was nice to know that the blond woman had someone looking out for her. It also made John have some respect for this man.

"I do not take drugs of any kind, I promise you."

Rangi did not say a word, he merely held Johns gaze and scrutinized him.

Finally, after exactly 35 seconds (he had counted) Rangi eased in his rigid posture and smiled.

"Gud then, sorry 'bout dat but I've looked out for, Gab's since she wus a lil' one," his expression became somber, "Even more so when Tanya 'nd Will passed."

Who were-

"Gab's parents."

John nodded, but another question itched to be asked.

"If you don't mind me asking," John began carefully, moving into step with Rangi as he began a slow walk towards the stalls, "Exactly how did Gabby's parents die?"

Those eyes watched him carefully again as a sad light filled them. John could practically see the man debate whether or not to tell him.

"I won' tell u much but…there was a bad car accid'nt 'nd they didn' make it."

A brief flash of a miserable Gabby in the changing rooms swept through his mind.

"She don' really talk 'bout it much, but it never fails t' upset her." Dark eyes, almost black they were so dark, glanced at him, "It isn't my place t' say anymore in t' subject."

Nodding, John accepted this, mulling privately over the new information.

Almost immediately the smaller man spotted something and brightened, gesturing towards a stall set up in the back of a truck. A generator hummed alongside it, messes of cable and wires made a jumbled heap between the two. "Care t' join me f'r a frosty one?" Not waiting for an answer, he trotted over and ordered them a bottle each.

What exactly was a 'frosty one'?

John found out when a chilled glass bottle was placed in his hand. The cap had already been pulled off and a light fizzing sound reached his ears.

"Kim makes t' best beer I've ever tasted." Both men took a swig, John's slightly more tentive than the eager gulp Rangi swallowed. "Well…except dis one Canadian brand I had once." Shrugging he walked in a random direction, subsequently missing the slight scrunching of Johns' nose at the bitter and dry taste of the drink.

The two walked aimlessly through the crowds, easily finding a path when people parted before their combined bulk without protest. Both men noticed the occasional wondering eye over John. Be it his scars, his height, his muscles in the barely loose shirt or a combination of all three. Neither mentioned it. It wasn't only the crowd's that eyed his person though.

Rangi's eyes would occasionally drift over the many, many scars that littered his exposed arms, neck and face. He never questioned John about it though. It was more than obvious that John was-_had been_-a soldier in the UNSC and Rangi respected his privacy (not including the brief 'questioning' before).

While they strolled and sipped their drinks, the two chatted. John learned that Rangi was a Maori from New Zealand originally, but his family had moved up to Australia when he was little. Hence the accent. He also learned that Rangi had been friends with Gabby's Father, and was labeled as her God-Father. Rangi, like a number of the men in Tamworth, was a farmer. His property was on the other side of the Barremburrah river, and he had a fairly large property compared to Gabby. Enough room for hundreds of sheep.

Rangi was also a dedicated AFL fan. Playing for the local team and coaching the little leagues team.

All in all, he was a good man, and John was beginning to really enjoy spending time with him.

It was…nice.

A small, barely noticeable smile twisted his lips. John had lost so much, so many people, so many friends, and now it seemed that he was slowly gaining new ones. They would never replace his Brothers and Sisters. No one could _ever_ replace them.

Thel was a good friend, after all, the Elite had personally searched for months with a small army of Elite and human soldiers for the missing Spartan when he and Cortana had been lost to the abyss of space after the events on the Ark. John would never be able to repay the Sangheili for his persistence and courage. Cortana, despite being an artificial intelligence, was also a close companion. Countless battles and trusting their very existence to one and other had forged a bond of comradeship between the two. Much like with Thel.

Thel and Cortana were the only two left alive, excluding Rene and Kirk, that he personally held close and considered friends. Johnson was probably the closest human to ever come close to being categorized as a brother in Johns' mind. The man had been fearless and unshakable. Defiant till his ill-fated death when that damned _Spark_ had betrayed them.

Fingers clenched into a fist for a tense second. Taking a deep breath through his nose he forcefully relaxed his hands.

Rangi was slowly becoming a friend. A person whom he could eventually trust and let his guard down near.

And Gabby…well…John wasn't sure where Gabby sat.

She was one of his first real, non-Spartan and non-UNSC friends. Someone who by all rights should be terrified by his menacing appearance. Who should have been put off by his curt, emotionless and brief replies to only direct questions. Who looked past The Chief, the Spartan, who looked beyond 117 and got to know, and even got John himself to know, the real John.

Gabby was…

Was…

Gabby.

She was just Gabby.

A tiny, infinitesimal frown formed.

Only Gabby would have noticed it.

Thoughts were disrupted when a loud tune burst out of nowhere.

Nowhere was soon replaced with Rangi's pocket.

The man ceased talking, John felt a tiny amount of guilt as he had been pretty much ignoring the now-friendly man, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a phone.

He flipped it open with a grin, "Sup bru?"

Enhanced ears picked up the sound of a woman on the other end, by the sound of her tone and the wilting of Rangi's posture, John correctly assumed that whoever it was, was not happy.

Rangi sighed, "Yeah, Ma." A particularly loud outburst from the woman, screeches they almost sounded like. "Sorry, Ma, I'll pick 'em up now, Ma." Rangi winced. "I ran int', Gab's, I didn' mean t'-Yeah, but we-No, I had t'-Aw c'mon, Ma!" Exasperated, Rangi flung his arm in the air (thankfully they had finished their beers and disposed of the bottles a while ago).

Apparently Rangi's mother was upset.

After another minute, Rangi finally hung up the phone and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Ah, sorry 'bout dat' bru, but my Ma, the old bat, needs me t' drop off her bloody groceries 'nd mow her lawn."

He chuckled when John's brow rose. The woman didn't seem too kind…

"I know, I know, but she's fam'ly, 'nd she raised me 'nd four others, so now it's our turn t' take care of her now dat Pa's gone 'nd she's getting' on in her years." A shrug and a helpless smile.

His respect for Rangi went up a few notches. He truly was a good man.

"It was a pleasure meeting you." Sticking his hand out, John smiled slightly.

Rangi blinked at the gesture before he grabbed he offered hand in a firm, but far gentler that their first, handshake. Even going so far as too clap Johns' shoulder in a friendly manner.

"Likewise, I'll see u t'morrow!"

With a jaunty wave and a 'take care, bru!' he was jogging through the thinning crowds.

A moment passed and John wondered what he could do for another twenty minutes.

Within seconds, John had made his decision and strolled over towards the stall with the woodwork.

o**OO**o

The carpenters eyes meet Johns' once again, the barest flash of recognition was there in those hard green eyes.

"Back again?" The toothpick came dangerously close to falling from his mouth at he spoke, but it never fell. The question was blunt and curt, but not said in an unfriendly manner.

Replying in the affirmative, observant brown eyes watched as the carpenters calloused hands gently moved a piece of rough looking paper over the wood, smoothing away the imperfections.

John was about to ask the man if he could spare a minute when a group of kids ran past and bumped into a woman carrying a crate of fruit.

The woman yelled out in alarm and lost her balance, she and the crate headed for the floor.

Of course, neither of them met the floor.

Blinking several times, a pair of confused and relieved grey eyes looked from John's arm, which was wrapped around her waist, and to his other hand, which had a tight grip on the handle of the crate and then up to his face.

She deflated as a heavy, relieved breath left her and a faint blush flushed over her cheeks.

"T-thanks so much!" she stuttered out somewhat awkwardly as he helped her back to her feet and passed the crate back to her.

"It was no problem." He twitched his lips up in what he hoped was a reassuring or at least comforting smile.

"Yeah…well, uh, goodbye then!" Her voice rose to an almost squeak as she hurried off, her blush becoming darker and almost matching the vibrant red curls that swung just below her shoulders.

John wished that Gabby was here to explain the odd woman's behavior.

A hearty chuckle came from behind him.

Turning, John found the carpenter holding the toothpick between his fingers and watching him with amusement.

What was so funny?

John failed to see the humor.

Shaking his head, the carpenter placed the chewed piece of wood back in his mouth and lent on one of the display tables.

"Those were some mighty fast reflexes, and a nice catch if I ever saw one." Another chuckle at some joke John didn't understand. "I noticed that you seemed interested in my work before." A calloused and saw-dust covered hand gestured to the almost finished sculpture.

"Yes, I did, they are beautiful."

John had never used that word to describe anything before.

Green eyes gleamed at the appraisal and something else the he couldn't define.

"Thank-you…?"

"John."

"A pleasure, names Rick, mind if I ask if there is anything in particular that you like."

He looked genuinely curious as he watched John's eyes judge each of the wood-works lain out on the tables until they settled on a simple wooden chest. Dark wood and a lighter brown made the small chest. Both had intricate knots carved into them. Vines with leaves intertwined around each other. It was simple, but beautiful.

If he could make something as beautiful as that with his hands after using said hands to take so many lives it would…it would just…he couldn't explain it. This want to create instead of destroy. To make something grow and make something beautiful instead of make something bloody and gory.

"The chest-" he pointed to it, "-is rather intriguing, but I must admit that I am more curious about learning how to create my own."

He watched as Rick gazed at him levelly for a brief moment.

After chewing in that little stick for a minute he bent down and scribbled something on a piece of paper.

"That's my workshop, drop by sometime soon and we'll see what you've got. I could use another set of hands."

Blinking, John never thought that _that _would happen. He though that the man would have given him a few tips for beginners, maybe recommend a book! Never would he have thought that he would get this! A job offer? Maybe, maybe not, but still, it was unexpected.

"Thank-you," He finally said after a pause, "I will visit you this week."

Nodding, the tough-skinned man waved him away, already back to work on his sculpture.

He made his way back to the truck in a daze.

This town certainly was an interesting place to call home.

o**OO**o

Gabby gently set the new bit in the tray and tied the tarp back down. She made a mental note to ask Rangi if she could borrow his truck to haul the hay order back to her farm when the order came in. He always let her use it, so long as she made him three pies (one of the only things that she could actually cook without having a disaster in the kitchen).

With a nostalgic smile, Gabby remembered making pies with her Mum and Dad whenever Rangi and his family were coming over to visit, or whenever they were going to visit them.

Somehow, they would always end up with flour all over themselves and end up eating half of the apples, berries or pears before the pie even went into the oven.

With a sad sigh, Gabby leant against her truck and waited for John and Rangi to arrive.

"_Bugger, I'm going to have to make some bloody pies for tomorrow too."_

Blowing a piece of hair away from her face, Gabby whistled sharply and loudly.

She waited for a moment, then _– 'Roof! Roof!'_

Boomer burst from the thinning crowds and loped to her side. Tongue hanging out and tail wagging as he 'roofed' again.

She hardly had to kneel down or bend over to ruffle his furry head. The dog was massive compared to other dogs. Danes in general were large, but Boomer must have been feed growth hormones before the adopted him from the animal shelter.

The woman opened the cab and folded the seat down before pulling a thick blanket over the temporary fridge for Boomer to sit on. He couldn't sit in the tray since it was full of food.

She watched warily as he clambered inside and parked his butt on the passenger side, meaning he had easy access to the back of John head. Something Boomer apparently liked to lick.

"No more licking people's heads, okay Boomer?" She said firmly, even knowing the dope didn't understand her.

The dog tipped his head to the side and watched her, not comprehending her order.

Snorting, Gabby likened the action to her large neighbor. Who tended to tilt his head in times of confusion to. This made a giggle bubble out.

Sitting inside the cab patiently, Gabby waited for John to amble back over.

Yawning, the blond woman shut the door and cracked the window.

A nap sounded nice.

o**OO**o

"You called, sir."

A man stood on the observation deck. There were only inches of reinforced glass between himself and the vacuum of space, yet he stood calmly with his hands clasped loosely behind his back. Dressed in a crisp white suit he stood silhouetted in the glittering black. A soft glow from below and behind softening the sharp contours of his figure.

He did not look away from the bright blue and green sphere below as he spoke. His voice low but strong.

"How is the situation looking?"

Knowing what the man meant, the blue A.I answered.

"It is getting worse by the day." A sigh. The hologram leaned to the side and placed a hand on her hip. "The probability of the protesters becoming violent is increasing; Shipmaster Rtas is concerned for his troops, and of course, for the Arbiter."

The man didn't say anything for a while, merely gazing at the motherland for all human-kind. A cradle of life that they had come so, _so_ close to losing to the decaying hands of the Flood.

"Sir?" Cortana ventured softly when five minutes of silence became ten.

"I need to speak with the Arbiter." He ordered softly.

"I'll send a message and inform you when he replies."

The pristine white hat upon his head tipped down in acknowledgment and the blue woman faded from the room.

Admiral Hood gazed down upon Earth and wondered what would happen next.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Yes yes, I know that many of you would have giggles or raised your eyebrow at Barremburrah. But hey, in Australia, we give places really weird names. Listen to this song, __**"I've been everywhere man", Daniel Scot**_,_ on YouTube or something, it has ALLLL of the weird names. Find the lyrics and try to sing along, I dare you._

_Prepare to be smothered by Aussie colloquialisms!_

_And I know that it's a little short, but whatever.  
_

_Press the pretty blue words, you know you want too._

_Much love,_

_Razz_


	13. Chapter 13

_Thank you everyone for all of the wonderful reviews and support last chapter! I even got called WonderWoman, hot damn!_

_This chapter is dedicated to two lovely people who have left me some __very kind messages. Raptor red and Anquietas!_

_And of course a big thank-you to my Beta for this chapter – HowAboutThisForAName!_

_**Something kind of important/interesting **__–John was born in 2510, making him around 43 years old when this story takes place (thi__s also makes Kirk and Rene around the same age) . Gabby was born a few years before the First Contact, so I have her around 34 years old, making her roughly 7 years old when she left Reach with her parents and moved to Earth. Rangi is maybe 10 or 12 years __older than her. Just thought this might clear a few things up. If anyone is uncomfortable with the slight age difference between Gabs and John, please don't mention it cause I don't care, they are grown-ups people. Women live longer than men anyway, so it __evens out in the end._

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbor is a Spartan**_

_**Twelve**_

A little blue bottle was pushed into his hands. A strange, smiling bird looked up at him; a speech bubble was stamped next to its mouth…odd.

"Sunscreen?"

Gabby continued to rub the lotion into her arms, waving at the bottle she had given him.

"Yup, you are rather pale, and the sun is out in full force today…" she blinked a few times, coming to a revelation of sorts, "…I'm surprised that you haven't gotten badly burnt already actually."

The man looked down at his forearm, which compared to Gabby's skin, was indeed rather pale. The woman had been living and working in the sun for her entire life, while John had spent most of his career (starting at the young, healthy age of 8) inside a full body suit of some sort. Whether is be UNSC fatigues or MJOLNIR armor, John had rarely spent any time outside his suit unless the Medics forced him to do so. Even then, the sun's rays hadn't touched his skin directly in years. There was always a window or the thick hull of a cruiser in between his self and the comforting warmth of the sun.

Being outside reminded the man of training on Reach with his Spartans. It was…refreshing. To feel. To experience. To feel alive without adrenaline pumping through his veins because of a close call with a Plasma grenade.

Squirting some of the liquid onto his person, John took a slow, deep breath and savored the fresh scents of farm country. Away from the lightly polluted cities and free from battle scared grounds and launch pads (which always smelt of metal and charcoal).

The musty smell of the horses, the faint tang of Eucalyptus (in his boredom, John had watched a documentary on Australian native plants, he could now identify many of the fauna that lived in his yard), the earthly smell of soil with the underlying cool, sweet scent of the Jacaranda trees as they bloomed.

And of course, the smell of sunscreen.

A noise distracted him from his musings.

Glancing over, the man saw Gabby piling a few items into the back of his modified Hog. They had decided to take his truck as it had better off-road capabilities that her truck, and to quote Gabby 'It would look cool if we turned up in 'The Beast''. This had made him snicker, considering she wouldn't even drive the damn thing.

Rubbing in the last of the lotion, John joined the woman by the truck and had a look at exactly what she was putting in the tray.

A dark brow rose.

"What are those?"

"Hmm?"

He picked up a black bodysuit, similar to the bodysuit of his armor.

"Oh, it's my wet suit, in case Rangi's brother brings out the ski gear and his boat…I would offer you my Dad's old one but I don't think it would fit you…at all." She smiled sheepishly. He chuckled.

Her eyes then moved over him critically. "Did you get the back of your neck and ears?"

A brow rose again. This was becoming a common expression for him, it seemed.

"Yes."

"Behind your knees?"

"Yes."

"Torso?"

He finally gave in and rolled his eyes, though it wasn't without good humor.

"Fine, burn to a crisp and look like a lobster, see if I care!" She continued securing stuff down. Chewing on her lip and glancing at John out of the corner of her eye.

He mentally counted down.

'_3…2…'_

"Did you get your nose?"

He chuckled deep and long before assuring her that he had.

"You'll be thankful in the morning when you wake up without a lovely red pigment to your skin."

"I'm sure that I will, thank you for the concern."

"You are very welcome." She said in a gracious manner but in a mocking tone, smirking playfully while she did so.

After a few more minutes of packing various things for their day out by the river with Rangi's family, John slipped behind the wheel and Gabby gripped the door handle in one hand and Boomer in the other. The Dane sat between her legs, his front legs curled over Gabby's left leg and his head leaned over the door. Normally he would lean out the window of Gabby's truck if it was too hot for the dog the sit in the tray, but since the Hog didn't even have a roof…

John held back a wince as Boomers tongue lolled out of his mouth, drool dripping onto the ground.

He had been very careful to not allow Boomer anywhere near his head after the two returned from their trip to the market. Much to his shame and to Gabby's delight, Boomer had gotten a swipe at his ear. Hilarity ensued for Gabby as John then decided to chase the dog down with a hose and so John experience his first water fight. With a dog.

What John didn't realize was that Gabby had crawled inside, her hysterical laughter causing the woman to lose her ability to walk properly, found her camera and filmed most of the 'fight'. Her main thought had been, '_Kirk will love this!'_.

Music played softly out of the radio as the pair plus dog made their way to the river bank. Following Gabby's directions, they made the trip in little over forty minutes. The town gave way to lush country-side, free of farming and left untouched for the most part.

Tall trees (Gums, Bottlebrushes, Black woods and Grey Ironbarks, he recognized much to his satisfaction) grew in thick clusters, creating an archway of sorts over the worn, dirt road they travelled down. Shrubs and ferns covered the ground, flowers of all sorts adding a vivid splash of color in the otherwise green and brown scenery.

Boomer looked longingly at a flock of twittering birds that flew over the car. Gabby's firm command had him settling down.

Eventually the road spilled out into a small clearing, several other cars were parked and a number of people milled about in clusters.

Several pairs of curious eyes immediately turned and watched as The Beast rumbled to a stop.

o**OO**o

Gabby wondered if John was feeling nervous at all. The woman had been painfully shy in her earlier years, always hiding behind a curtain of blonde hair when in crowds and nearly bolting for a place to hide when she met someone new, that was, before her friends managed to pull her out of her shell.

She sent the man a side-long glance, offering a small, encouraging smile when those ever curious brown eyes shifted to hers, before stepping out of the man's truck. Boomer barked happily and loped towards a familiar sheep dog, the two immediately sniffing each others behinds in greeting. Ah, friendship.

"AUNTY GABBY!"

Precisely three seconds after the shrill squeal the woman let out an 'Oompf' as a child suddenly barreled into her stomach.

Several adults laughed at this scene, quite familiar with the child's antics.

Gabby wheezed out a chuckle and wound her arms around the bouncing child.

"Ohmygod, Aunty Gabby it's been so long since I saw you! I got a new doll, cause I ate all of my vegetables all week, and she is really pretty and I named her Gabby too! But she isn't nearly as cool as you so you don't need to worry about being replaced! Come over and look at the sand castle me and Timmy made!"

As the child bodily dragged the woman away John had to think for a second and just try to comprehend _how _anyone could say that much in the span of 10 seconds…in one breath. The child was still rapidly speaking, only stopping to take a deep breath on occasion.

A hearty chuckle came from beside him.

"Dat's my niece, Julie, da kid loves Gab's." Rangi laughed again at John's slightly bewildered expression. "She has dat affect on people, so you're not alone." A hand clapped him on the shoulder a few times.

"C'mon, I'll introduce u t' the others."

o**OO**o

Hazel eyes glanced over at the group of adults every few moments. Gabby wasn't worried about John. Really…she wasn't…the woman was just making sure that the introductions were going smoothly.

A happy smile lit her face when she saw Rangi introducing her neighbor to all the adults present, excluding the few that were down with the children in the water. It would be good for John to have people other than her to socialize with and talk too.

Maybe she could introduce him too-"YOU'RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION!"

Blinking rapidly, Gabby jerked her gaze away from the group and met a pair of unhappy brown eyes.

The girl had dragged her forcibly over to her little sand castle creation before she could provide John with some much needed introductions (she would have to thank Rangi for stepping in later) and begun telling her about anything and everything that had happened since the two had seen each other a month ago. The topics had ranged from the jar of pickles she had finally been able to open to the boy that had been pulling on her pony tails in the playground. Which amused her to no end, she knew the boy that Julie was speaking of, and also knew that the boy had a crush on her 'niece'.

Gabby had missed the last 20 seconds of hyper-speed talking and the child was not happy about it. Her cheeks puffed out and her eyes pointed down in a petulant frown. If she were standing her hands would promptly be placed on her hips.

"Sorry, Julie, you were saying something about Raymond?"

Distracted from her anger, she went into a rant about 'boys and their stupidness'.

After a few minutes of Julie angrily talking about how he kept pulling on her hair and calling her several nasty names (in a child's eyes they were nasty, ti was nothing like the profanity her father uttered on occasional) like Frog Face and Bird Nose. She ended her rant huffing and puffing with a red face from flushed cheeks. Her final statement was 'Raymond is a Poo-Head!'.

"Done?" She said bemusedly, only knowing the child for most of Julies' life allowed the woman to understand her rapid talking.

Julie crossed her arms and kicked a shell with her foot.

"Yes."

Gabby sat cross-legged beside her and watched the other children playing in the shallows. The water was beautifully clear and the sun made the sprays of water kicked up sparkle briefly.

"You know…" she began, "When a boy picks on you, it usually means that he likes you."

Julie looked at her with wide eyes. Ah, too be young and oblivious again.

"You mean…like-like me?" she spoke slowly for once, disbelieving.

Gabby chuckled, ruffling her hair gently. "Yes."

Her mouth worked silently for a moment, before she snorted.

Mentally sighing, the woman smiled briefly. "Do you catch him looking at you?"

"…Yeah."

"Does he ever actually be mean, or does he just tease you?"

"…he just teases me." Her shoulders slumped.

"Has he ever hurt you?"

Her lips pouted in a frown as she finally made eye-contact with the woman's kindly smiling visage. "No…but…I don't understand!"

"He probably doesn't either, he's feeling all these new emotions and he doesn't know what to do with them."

She could see Julie thinking everything over before she spoke again. "So he teases me…because he likes me?"

A nod.

"Well…that's just stupid! Boys are stupid!"

A few adults looked over at the child's frustrated cry and the woman beside her who was consumed by laughter.

"Sometimes they can be," Gabby conceded when she could speak without laughing, "Just tell him to stop and if he doesn't ask him why he's doing it. He'll probably turn 7 shades of red and leave you alone."

Julie sighed explosively and flopped on her back.

Gabby petted her arm sympathetically. Kids just don't know how to deal with some things.

The light in her eyes dimmed slightly as a familiar ache settled in her chest. It wasn't that she didn't love Julie, or the other children that called her Aunty or recognized her as a part of their family with hugs and kisses on the cheek (despite the fact that she wasn't related to any of them), but what the woman wanted, ached for sometimes, was for a child to call her own. She wanted more than anything for a child to call her Mom, not Aunty Gabby or some other familial nickname.

Brushing the depressing thoughts aside, Gabby pulled off the shirt she wore over her swimwear, leaving her board shorts on over the one-piece suit.

"C'mon, kiddo, let's have a swim!"

Julie immediately jumped up and tore her summer dress off, revealing bright pink togs with flowers on them before overtaking the woman and racing for the water.

o**OO**o

The adults looked over at the pair again when Julie let out a mighty squeal.

They saw Gabby picking the flailing child up in her arms and jumping off the end of the pier. Chuckles came forth as they surfaced; Julie scowled at Gabby and called her a big fat meanie. The woman just laughed and flicked water at her. Julie retaliated by splashing back. And so a water-fight of epic proportions ensued.

At least there wasn't any dog drool involved in this one, John thought with amusement as he observed the obvious affection the two had for each other. Smiles were on both of their faces and he noticed that Gabby was careful with her movements and never used too much force. His lips quirked when the woman picked the child up and tossed her up and out of the water, the child must have been accustomed to this as she yelled 'Yippee!' and squeezed herself into a tight ball before plunging back into the water.

"I don't know how she can keep up with Julie." One of the women that he had been introduced to said dramatically, "I'm worn out just by trying to decipher what she says half the time!" The other women cackled at this, dissolving into a conversation that really left John out of his depth. When they started chatting about what kinds of nappy rash solutions they used he was thankful that Rangi saw his dilemma.

"Come over 'nd join us 'nd leave the woman t' there gossipin'!" The woman scoffed at Rangi and continued chatting.

He didn't need to be told twice.

Excusing himself, John quickly joined the group that was making their way down the pier. He had already been introduced to these four, not including Rangi, and they seemed friendly enough (after they got over his size and closed their mouths). They were all fathers and were part of Rangis' family by blood or by marriage. The youngest was a year or two younger than himself and the oldest was a few years older than Rangi, who was a few years older than John.

"Ever been skiing before, mate?" A blonde man, the only man asides himself that was not of Maori descent, named Adam asked.

He answered in the negative.

Another man, one with a slight amount of belly fat, chuckled and hefted the ski's he was carrying into a better hold. "This'll be interestin' then!"

"Shuddup, Brodes, it took you hours before you could stay upright for more than five seconds!" The shortest of their group, Payua, said playfully, punching the man in the shoulder. The men laughed and John chuckled as Brodes split off from the group and waded into the shallow water, stepping into the skis. Payua turned and smiled at John, "Don't worry, mate, after teachin' these morons how to ski I can teach anyone, it'll be a breeze."

Outraged cries came from the others and John felt himself become at ease with them. He was very fortunate to have made friends with Gabby, and in turn, meet these people.

The five of them clambered into a speedboat, it was almost a tight squeeze with all of them, but once they sat down on the seats built into the sides there was plenty of foot space. Billy, nicknamed Bazza, took the wheel and, after making sure that no kids were near the boat, started the engine up, and lined the boat up so that the stern was facing the river bank.

Seeing what they were doing, everyone turned and watched them, a few children ran over and stood in the shallow water, eagerly watching as Rangi secured the line of the handle to the boat before tossing the grip to Brodes.

John observed every motion the man made critically, storing every move, adjustment and stance in his mind for when he would surely be made to have a go. His observations were interrupted when Payua slipped beside him, switching places with Rangi. The man softy began pointing out that Brodes stance was right but his grip on the handle was wrong. When Brodes fell into the water as Bazza moved the boat, the man explained the best way for a beginner to get off to a good start, amidst the laughter of their company.

Two children from the beach cheered for their father and Brodes looked distinctly flustered by the attention, but got in a ready stance once again.

He failed to get going again, face-planting into the water. Payua dropped his face into his open hand.

"You're holding the grip wrong…again, Brodes." He said despondently before saying in a quieter voice, "Every bloody time he does the same thing." The other males chuckled and Bazza pushed the throttle forward again. This time he managed to hold on. The people on the shore cheered wildly.

As they passed by the beach Brodes lifted one hand free and waved to the party on the shore. John smiled at their interactions. They were all so at ease with each other, acting playful most of the time.

A tiny frown dipped his eyebrows. John realized just how much his Spartans and he had missed out on, how stunted they all were both emotionally and socially. This made him think. If he and the others had been left alone by Halsey and the scientists with their augmentations would they have been better off? Would they have been able to experience days like this? Laughing with friends, freely showing emotions and not being given a childhood full of painful training and brutal regimens. Would their lives have been better? If John had the chance…had he known what Halsey's intentions towards himself were…would he still have gone along with her?

He considered all of this, analyzing the details. The reasoning behind every decision made.

After deeply considering everything, he realized that he still would have gone along with Halsey. He still would have gone to the training camp and done the brutal training. He would still go through losing nearly all of his Spartans and giving up the better part of his life for humanity because…they would most likely have all died before the war ended. Left defenseless and weak without the training and augmentations and easily picked off by an enemy.

In fact, he realized, humanity would have long-ago perished at the hands of the Covenant or the Flood if it were not for the efforts of the Spartans. His Spartans.

Pride swelled in his chest at the accomplishments the Spartans had made. The tides they had turned, the people that they had saved, the battles they had won.

For once, John truly felt something for the countless medals that decorated his formal uniform.

"FOR HEAVANS SAKE! HOLD THE DAMN GRIP PROPERLY YOU BLOODY DUNDERHEAD!"

John was once again startled from his musings when Payua suddenly bellowed from beside his person.

"_Oh…"_

Brodes had face-planted in the water again.

"I AM HOLDING IT PROPERLY YOU JACKASS!"

The man beside him snarled and leaned over the side, gripping the railing. "NO, YOU ARE NOT! AND THAT IS WHY YOU KEEP FALLING ON YOUR FACE!"

Brodes gave him the universal hand gesture for 'fuck you' and changed his grip.

Letting out a frustrated huff, Payua flopped back down into his seat.

"He's worse than the little buggers I teach at school."

As the boat started up again, John fought down a chuckle when not five seconds later they both heard Brodes face-plant in the water again, he resurfaced with an explosive curse. At least they were out of hearing range of the children. Payua looked to the sky and mumbled 'Why me?'.

Chuckling (he seemed to be doing a lot of that today), John turned to the man. "So you're a teacher then?"

He seemed surprised by the question, and showed it by staring at the man for a few seconds before smiling.

"Yes, I teach P.E and Health at the local high school, even the kids I _know_ do dope retain information better than _him_!" He jerked his thumb in the general direction of Brodes, who decided to yell 'Screw you guys" as Bazza jokingly didn't stop the boat when he fell…again.

"Dat's it! If u fall again it's my turn!" Rangi yelled, a wide smile splitting his face.

Ignoring them, the two continued their conversation. "How long have you taught?"

"Hmm, I'd say that I am comin' up on 15 years." He smiled genuinely as if the thought hadn't occurred to him before. "Rangi said that you only just moved in next door to Gabrielle, are you from around here originally or elsewhere?" His light brown eyes were attentive.

"Originally, I'm from Reach."

Technically, there was another world that he called home before Reach…but he couldn't remember what planet, or even what system he originally hailed from.

Payua nodded, carefully hiding the sadness and sympathy he felt towards John as Reach had been nothing less than a massacre at the hands of the Covenant.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but am I correct in assuming that you were in the UNSC until very recently?" he questioned with an exaggerated glance at his admittedly large figure, a humored light in his eyes. John smirked. "Yes, I retired a month ago."

"Dat's it! It's my turn, Brodes!"

"Fine then, you do better!"

Water splashed over them as Rangi dived into the water and swam over too Brodes, they then proceeded to trade skis and Brodes made his way to the boat. He had a little difficulty climbing aboard.

John reached over and helped the man into the boat. He slapped a wet hand on Johns shoulder in thanks as he moved for Rangi's abandoned seat. Rangi was a far better skier John found. Whooping and jumping off the waves created by the boats passing.

"How long were you in service?"

Eyes leaving Rangi, John met the inquisitive brown orbs of Payua. "Nearly my entire life." He left the 'nearly' part up for interpretation. Nearly all of his life to John mean since he was eight, to Payua it might mean that he had signed up as soon as he was legal.

"We had a brother and an Uncle in the UNSC, they both died defending the outer colonies."

"My condolences." He said sincerely. Payua inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"There isn't a person alive today that didn't lose someone, friend or family, in the war, it's a shame that they didn't get to experience this peace." The words were soft spoken, slightly wistful and full of sorrow.

How very true that was.

The two spoke of lighter matters after that. John found out that Rangi, Payua and Brodes were all brothers, Brodes being the oldest and Payua the youngest. Bazza had married their deceased Uncles daughter and Adam had married Brodes eldest daughter. John also found out that the reason Payua referred to Gabby as Gabrielle instead of her nickname was because he taught P.E and Health when she was in high school and she had been in his classes in her senior years. He never called students by their nicknames. The habit stuck when she graduated.

Adam and Bazza gave their own input to the conversation, Bazza didn't say much though as he was steering, and after a while Brodes and Payua got into an argument over what was the proper way to hold the grip.

Eventually, Rangi called it quits and John found out that it was his turn.

They all gave their advice as he strapped the skis on, he politely ignored anything Brodes said.

Bending his knees, John gripped the handle firmly and nodded that he was ready. Bracing himself for the pull, John was surprised when he rose swiftly from the water…for all of 5 seconds.

Swimming with skis was awkward, he found. The men on the boat yelled encouragement and he couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm.

This time he was prepared for the pull and quickly gained his balance.

Success!

A broad smile crept over his features as water sprayed up from beneath the skis and he experimented moving from left to right.

He nearly lost his balance a few times, but Spartan reflexes kept him from face-planting.

Now this was fun!

o**OO**o

All eyes followed the man that skilfully manoeuvred the skis strapped to his feet with fluid grace that professionals would kill for. With a start, Gabby realised that the large but elegant man was John!

Her eyes remained glued to his huge figure as he moved with the grace of a bloody ballerina.

She giggled quietly, now that was an image. John the Ballerina, former Spartan , current wearer of leotards.

A breathy 'wow' from her left drew her eyes down to Julie.

"Who was that with Dad?"

"That's John, my new neighbour."

"Really?" big brown eyes looked at her and she knew that there was a 'cool!' on the tip of her tongue but then another expression overtook her face. "Isn't he the guy you kept looking at when I was trying to talk to you before?"

"…Yeah." She frowned when the child giggled, slapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. "What?"

"You kept watching him…like Raymond watches me!" she pointed a finger at her and smiled in a intrepidly cute manner, "You like-like him!"

Taken aback, she retorted. "I do not!"

"You have a crush on John!"

She was tempted to stop her foot, but she was an adult, and it wouldn't be registered as she was waist deep in the water.

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do!" she giggled. It sounded evil, "You're blushing!"

Gabby slapped her hands over her cheeks and found that they were a little warm…but that could be from the sun...couldn't it?

"Gabby likes Johnny, Gabby like Johnny!" she sang.

"Stop saying it so loud!" she lunged for the child and attempted to clap a hand over her mouth, which was spouting lies. So many lies.

"So it's true!" she squirmed away and cackled.

Realising her mistake, the woman back-tracked rapidly, "No it's not true! Stop lying, Julie!"

As the child made for the beach the woman waded through the water as quick as she could and gave chase to the child that was starting to sing that wretched 'K-i-s-s-i-n-g under the tree' song. She had to get her to stop, otherwise it could make for some very awkward situations between herself, the others and John, who still didn't seem quite accustomed to social interactions, let alone false crushes and the jesting of a child.

Hazel eyes were drawn to the strong figure that cut smoothly through the water as the boat did another pass by their little section of the beach. John glanced over and caught her staring then. A smile worked onto her face when she saw how happy he was, he even waved and the smile got wider when she returned the gesture.

When they disappeared, Gabby remembered why she was chasing down Julie, she had to get her to not spread that damn lie.

It was a lie…wasn't it?

o**O**oo**O**o

_The seeds are planted, mwahahaha!_

_This is an out-take that I removed from the story, it's short, but I found it funny._

John blinked once.

He blinked twice.

He blinked once more.

Before him stood Gabby.

In her swim-wear.

To be specific, a bikini.

He blinked again.

Bikini's didn't leave a lot to the imagination, it would seem.

_FIC RECOMMENDATION! – Go read __**dldaddy**__'s Halo fic __**"Flash Clone Last Light"**__, it's really beautiful and the only fic that I have read that goes in depth about what __happens to the clones that Halsey or whoever replaced the abducted Spartans with. Reeeeeeeeeeeeead it._

_http:/www . Fanfiction . net/s/3383418/1/Flash_Clone_Last_light_

_Till next time lovely's!_

_Razz_


	14. Chapter 14

_Holy shit…just holy shit! 300 reviews in 13 chapters…just, wow._

_Enjoy!_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 14**

"This thing didn't make it so hard to breathe last time I wore it." A blonde woman grumbled jokingly while tugging at the wetsuit she wore until it sat comfortable.

The woman in the makeshift stall beside her chuckled out and the tell-tale snap of elastic on flesh rang out.

"Ya hear that, blondie? That's the sound of my togs against my jelly belly? You aint got nothin' to complain about yet!"

Snorting quietly, Gabby set her folded clothes and normal togs inside a small bag before stepping out from the changing rooms the men had set up earlier. Moments later, a woman with many laugh-lines carved into her face stepped out beside her wearing a once-piece and boardshorts. The woman was a dozen years older than herself and, after bearing three children, had put a slight amount of weight.

"C'mon, we gotta get our turn in before Paul get's down 'ere with the Banana Boat 'nd the kids take over the boat."

Sharing a grin, the two women strolled down to the beach. The sight that met their eyes had both women blinking in surprise as their steps faltered. Gabby's surprised look quickly changed into one of gentle happiness and affection. A warm feeling settled in her chest and her mouth curved into a rare smile. Not that she didn't smile often, she rarely went a day without physically showing her happiness or amusement, it was just that the certain smile she wore at the moment was one of such quiet fondness and joy that the rest of the world faded out around them, _those _ smiles were of the rarest kind.

Standing chest deep in the water, was Gabby's very tall neighbor, and crowded around him, crying out 'me next!' with delighted smiles on their chubby faces were all of the children that had joined in on the festivities. What they were so eager to be next in line for was made apparent when Rangi's youngest son, Mayson, was picked up under the arms. Over the wild giggles and excited squeals of the children, the quite rumble of John's voice could be made out asking the brilliantly smiling May if he was ready.

Not two seconds later the boy was flying through the air and squeezing himself into a tight ball before splashing into the water. Beside her, Sharron's breath left her in a whoosh as she saw just how far the boy flew from John's (very gentle) toss.

Julie and herself had played this game earlier, and evidently, a child had gone up and asked the man to do the same. She guessed that once the children had seen the game Cannon Ball with John become Super Cannon Ball the crowd had started to form.

After such hardships and pain, it was truly a wonderful experience to see such a strong and once-closed-off man smile so freely. To see him play with children without the weight of a thousand problems pushing down on his broad shoulders, to see his face morph into a smile, even a reserved one that only showed the barest flash of white teeth, it was a privilege, she thought to herself.

Knowing his past, even only the smallest parts, Gabby knew these moments of laughter and peace were more than well deserved.

Just like her Uncle, and Rene, and every other soldier out there, they all deserved these days of wondrous peace.

It was moments like these that it almost seemed as if the war had never happened. That millions upon billions of people hadn't died gruesome and painful deaths at the hand of the once allied Covenant.

But then, there were those moments when everyone was reminded of the death and the pain.

The light in her hazel eyes dimmed slightly.

Every time the woman looked at John and saw those scars, she was reminded of all that had been lost, of all that _he_ had lost. That Kirk had lost. In those scars that littered Kirks' and Johns' skin, she saw so much pain that it made her want to scream. She wanted nothing more than to hold them close and squeeze them tight, just to let them know she was _there_, and she would listen, that she wouldn't disappear and would always be by their side if they needed her.

With a slight start, Gabby realized that in the relatively short time she had known John, he had already become one of her closest circle of friends. Not including the two Spartan men she had come to truly care for, there were only a select few people that she had ever held so close. Her parents, of course, Rangi and his immediate family, Julie and her mother Taya, her best friend from High School and her roommate from University.

It might have been because they had spent too much time together, that she had been practically his guide and teacher since he moved next door (and technically still was his guide) and had made it somewhat her duty to help the man she had seen looking so damn _lost _in Franks old living room.

It might have been because he was practically Kirks brother.

It may have been because Gabby saw another lonely soul left behind in the aftermath of the War, and in her own lonesome atop the hill with nothing but her animals most of the time, that she wanted another friend and grasped at the opportunity.

Shrugging minutely, Gabby really didn't care to analyze how their friendship had come about and developed into one so strong.

"My oh my," turning, Gabby was faced with the picture of a small number of the other women that had come down to the beach today standing in a cluster beside her. Two of which had a suspicious red tinge to their dark skin. "That is one fine lookin' man you got for a neighbor, Gabs." The woman that spoke began to fan her face as if she were over-heated.

It didn't really help, she mused with barely concealed giggle, that John's shirt was white and clung to his very built form like second skin.

Hazel eyes drifted over the gaggle of women with restrained amusement, and a no small amount of mischief.

"Aren't all of you married?"

Some blushes deepened while the others tittered and cackled softly, as they noticed the men sitting on the beach watching John with a small amount of envy as his muscles rippled and his biceps flexed as he picked each child up and gently tossed them into the water.

"Doesn't mean that we can't enjoy the view, our other half's certainly don't mind ogglin' other women!"

At this the women, including herself, began to laugh.

o**OO**o

Hearing the sounds of their collective wives laughter, most of the men, who were slumped in various poses with expressions of longing and envy on their faces, sat up and eyed the gaggle as if they were a murder of crows eyeing a 'dying animal'.

Easily enough, a number of them made the connection after seeing the giggles directed towards themselves and the man standing in the water, and changed 'dying animal' too 'fresh meat'.

Sulking, Brodes took a hearty swig from his beer.

Payua and Rangi both mimicked one and other and chuckled at their brothers expense. The largest man of the group flipped both men the bird and took another mouthful of the bitter drink. It didn't help that both of them were still in shape and had managed to avoid gaining a large gut.

"Aw, don' worry 'bout it, Brodes, t' shelas are just havin' a bit of fun." Rangi said soothingly, and in a more sincere tone added, "'nd we all know dat Rhea loves u 'nd doesn't care about-"

"I know that Rangi!" He cut in, almost harshly, before sighing in a dramatic manner, "I've just felt really old lately, and seein' that-" he gestured to the John with a tip of his beer bottle, "Makes me wish I'd kept playin' footy or laid off a bit on the junk food."

Brodes admitted that he had been a little upset to see his waist growing steadily larger over the last several years, and he had to keep loosening his belt every once and a while. But he had never really considered changing anything like committing to a healthier diet or doing some exercise until seeing this man this morning. Not that he didn't like John, on the contrary, he was very polite and seemed like a good man, if somewhat reserved. It was just difficult to be confronted with such a model of masculine perfection standing right before him, with himself in all his nearly fifty year old and beer gut glory.

Not to mention the skiing. Oh, the skiing.

His brothers, by blood and marriage, exchanged some worried looks and some exasperated ones.

"It's a bit late for you to be havin' a mid-life crisis, idnit?" Payua said in that amused but understanding teacher voice he had perfected over the years.

Rolling his eyes in a _very_ exaggerated way, Brodes finished his beer and set the empty bottle beside him.

"And-" Payua continued, "It's not too late to change a few things around, join me for a morning run on Mondays and Wednesdays and talk to Rhea about cutting down on the junk food in the house," he smirked bemusedly, "I doubt she would mind, never liked any of that junk, has she?"

They all chuckled, "Nope, it's a miracle you got away with it for this long." Billy added in his two cents softly, he was easily the most quiet of the brothers.

"Yeah…" Tilting his head to the side, Brodes watched as John lifted his youngest daughter with care and threw her a small ways into the water with no apparent effort. "How old is he anyway?" All he really knew of the man's identity was his name and that he had just retired from the UNSC.

Rangi sat back on his hands, legs stretched out in the sun, "43."

Billy blinked a few times, he was only 42, and was already finding it somewhat difficult to stay in shape to the degree that he was, and he had a job that demanded physical labor for hours at a time. Though, he realized, their new acquaintance had divulged that he spent the majority of his life fighting in the UNSC. He would havehad to be fit to the extreme in order to survive. Not to mention that the constant fighting would no doubt have had a hand in creating the powerful build that the man had now.

The scars were a testament to just how many fights there had been.

It was only after the brothers had seen John that they had realized why Rangi had warned all persons beforehand that John looked like he had been worked over with a rake (not that he had meant any offense by that statement) and to not stare (this he had directed to mostly the children).

Rangi was right to have done so, as at first glance, most people would have taken one look at the scarred face with an expression of indifference on it and nearly piss their pants…and that didn't take into account the body attached. Solid muscle, all seven damn feet of it, covered in shiny scars of plasma burns and thin raised lines made from encounters with shrapnel, daggers and God only knows what _else_.

Obviously, the women had no problem with John. There giggles attested to that. Of course, having the far tinier and well known Gabby walking beside him did count for something with all of them, and a large number of the population of Tamworth, as she was always smiles and her presence just…softened his hard appearance until they got a chance to know the man under the scars. Plus, Gabby had the respect of many people in town, as it was her horses that plowed the fields when the machines couldn't be fixed or carried the Search and Rescue volunteers when people went missing in the mountains. Her judgment carried a lot of weight with the people and they saw her actions towards John and held back on forming opinions.

Coming to a decision, Brodes declined a second beer and asked Payua what time to meet him on Monday morning.

o**OO**o

John kept the smile on his face as his enhanced hearing picked up the conversations the men were having on the beach. It was a curious thing, overheaving people speak about ones self. There was no malice in their tones, nor did they speak ill of him, so he was not concerned. John did find it somewhat odd how quickly those men, and these children, had come to be so welcoming towards himself.

Marines were grateful for his presence on the battle field, but away from the fight, they shied away from his person. The ODST personnel in particular held a certain distaste for he and his Spartans.

But these people, Rangi, Payua, Brodes and all the others, were all so forthcoming and unafraid. Sure, they looked somewhat apprehensive when their eyes first took him in…but afterwards, they treated him like they treated each other. As a friend.

As John picked up the next child, a squealing girl of eight (he guessed), the smile on his face was genuine.

o**OO**o

The group of women only had control of the boat for little over an hour, as Paul arrived with an odd yellow thing stuffed under his arm.

John watched with interest as a number of people took turns blowing air into the plastic mess until it began to look less like a yellow lump and more like a banana.

"Ooooo, that's the Banana Boat!" Julie, who had somehow persuaded the man into building a sandcastle, cheered excitedly from beside him in the sand.

So that's what it was.

Bizarre.

Adding a second tower to his rather impressive castle, John eyed the children as they told the adults to hurry up and get the boat ready.

Once the Banana was fully inflated a cord was thrown over too one of the two people still in the boat. Tui, he recalled her name being, securely attached the cord too the boat.

The children just began to climb aboard the banana when a small hand tugged on the hem of his shorts.

"Hey Mr. John, do you like Aunty Gabby?" Curious eyes met brown.

This question left him slightly perplexed, unconsciously he tilted his head to the side.

"Yes, I like her and consider her a friend."

Her bottom lip stuck out and a small frown creased her brow. It was…cute.

"But…do you like-like her?"

"_What?"_

"Like-like her?"

"Yeah, do you like-_like_ her?"

"Like-like?"

"No, like-_like_?"

He was having trouble understanding this term that Julie was so emphatically reiterating.

"I do not understand what you mean."

Heaving a sigh that held much exasperation, the child went back to sticking sea shells onto her sand creation. "Never mind, Mr. John."

Still confused, he went back to making his sand castle.

While he rather did enjoy playing with the children, this one left him reeling.

o**OO**o

Gabby felt the aches deep in her legs and arms when she stepped from the boat, but it was a good ache. Stretching, she smiled in satisfaction. A few tumbles and bad starts had not dampened her smile when it came to her turn for the skis. The feel of the air whipping through her hair and the power of the water beneath her feet was an addicting feeling.

As the woman was the last to take her turn, she was still very wet. This was backed up when she twisted her blonde locks and a fair amount of water splashed onto the ground.

"That was certainly fun!"

A somewhat burly woman cackled as she ruffled her short, choppy hair.

"I bet your ass is still stinging from that lovely skid you did." Georgia smiled broadly at the friendly goading.

"And I bet you face is still numb from the skid you did on your face."

Gabby rubbed at her face, unable to really feel much but she knew her nose, forehead and cheeks were still red from the impact.

"Yeah yeah, let's go change so we can get some grub. C'mon, George."

Though the darker skinned woman was indeed female, everyone called her George, instead of Georgia. This was because the woman acted more like a man than a woman. Her defined upper body was thick with muscle, which she had gained from many hard months of labor working her family's farm. Plus, they all knew who wore the pants in her relationship.

Her strength was proved when the woman jokingly slugged Gabby in the arm. That would hurt tomorrow.

Absentmindedly, she rubbed her arm a trailed after George. The burly woman often didn't realize how much strength she had, and the resulting bruises spoke of that. This made Gabby realize how much control over their strength Kirk and John had. She had never really considered how careful the two had to be whenever they touched her. Hugs, handshakes and affectionate pats on the shoulder were a test of control with them.

Sighing, the woman grabbed her dry clothes and a towel.

o**OO**o

It was only as the sun began to set that the last of the children finally began to leave the water and put warmer, dry clothes on. Even then there was much whining.

People began to set up tables and chairs and others lit up the barbeque and prepared the food to be cooked.

John stood away from everyone and leaned against his truck, Boomer dozing at his feet. He now wore his thin UNSC jacket over a dry shirt, it was still warm, but a cool breeze swept through the beach on occasion. Not that it bothered him, but it was more comfortable with the jacket on.

Brown eyes were serene as the man watched the sunset over the mountains. Hues of golds, oranges, reds and pinks bloomed in the sky and bled into the white of the clouds. Rays of light reached from behind the mountains as stars began to shine on the sky. In minutes, the light was gone, and the glittering blackness of the night remained. It was a beautiful scene.

He had not been given the opportunity to properly witness a sunset in a very long time. During dusk, if he were on a planet and not on a ship, he was normally watching for members of the Covenant or Flood and fighting for his life.

It was peaceful now.

John looked up into the sky. Up there, was the _Atlas_. Kirk, and possibly Rene's, new station.

The Spartans left alive (that they knew of) were coming home.

If he were a normal man, he may have shed a tear. However, John was a Spartan, so he merely smiled.

o**OO**o

The sounds of laughter and chatter created a warm and happy atmosphere around the group of children and adults as they ate their dinner. The fact that the tables were too small and that the plastic forks and knifes were annoying to eat with did not dampen the smiles shared by all.

After the meal was finished, the family plus guests were made suspicious and curious when Rangi and Paul told no one to leave until they got back before giggling, _giggling_, mischievously and running off with a large box.

Lost by this behavior, John looked for Gabby to explain this to him, as she always did when he was confused, but could not find her.

A small crease appeared between his brows. Where was she?

Focusing, John took full advantage of his enhanced hearing and listened for the steady and light tread of Gabby's feet.

His frown became more pronounced when he could not locate the now familiar tread.

A distinctive woof caught his attention.

Boomer and the much smaller Sheepdog named O'Neill were running along a lesser worn path into the forest.

Boomer had never run off before, why would he do so now?

"Wherever Gabs goes, that mutt goes too, if that's who you're lookin' for." Glancing to his left, he was greeted with the sight of Payua. He placed Gabby's bag in the bed of the Hog before walking back towards the group muttering about "tongues" and "damn slobbery mutts". John assumed that he was not the only person to have been on the receiving end of one of Boomers "kisses".

Smirking, John pushed away from the truck and jogged after the two dogs.

Boomer roofed loudly and loped down a barely visible path, O'Neill trailing after him. Keeping the two in his sight, John followed the dogs until the sounds of the music and people were hardly able to be heard.

Pushing aside a low branch, John stepped out of the forest and into another clearing.

It was not like the clearing by the beach, he observed, this one marked the end of the forest. Green pastures went on for miles and old fencing kept the forest at bay. The dogs had already leapt over or crawled under the wooden beams had chased after a figure dressed in white.

He could just make out the distinctive blond hair of his friend in the light of the moon.

Easily stepping over the fence, John jogged after the three. Though his pace did slow when the question of why she was out here ran through his mind. Her destination seemed to be the lone tree (a Weeping Willow) that stood by the river. The massive tree look odd all by itself, surrounded by grass in all directions.

When he was a dozen feet away, he purposely made his shoes scuff the grass.

Surprised, Gabby spun, causing her dress too flare out.

The woman blew out a breath when she realized it was him and frowned lightly.

"What have I told you about sneaking up on me?" she said when he stopped beside her.

"To not do it."

Huffing, the women smirked at the answer before chuckling.

"Sorry, you just startled me."

He hummed softly in acceptance and they resumed walking at a languid pace.

"I wanted to ask you something but could not find you, Payua said that he-" he jerked his chin in Boomers direction "-goes wherever you do."

The woman pet the Danes head affectionately and nodded in understanding. "So what did you want to ask?"

"Rangi and Billy were acting…odd."

"Odd?"

"Yes…they were…giggling."

"Oh…" Hazel eyes lit up with mirth and she smiled like she had a big secret, which she did. "I don't want to ruin the surprise, so you'll just have to wait like everyone else."

"But-"

"Not telling!" She sang, giggling herself when he scowled.

O'Neill ran ahead of the two with Boomer. So far, the smaller dog had given the man a wide berth, seemingly afraid to come closer.

After a few moments of companionable silence, in which John thought of all the possible reasons why the two men were acting so…childish, the duo were standing almost within arms distance of a curtain of green. Pushing aside several of the vine like stems, Gabby stepped inside the sheltered areas under the tree and knelt down by a knot at the base of the great tree. She seemed to know what she was looking for as she swept away sticks, rock and leaves.

A small "ah ha" was cheered when she found whatever she was looking for.

Curious, John leaned closer.

A bag of candles.

Both brows rose.

Stepping back, John watched as Gabby whispered something so softly that even he couldn't hear it before she pulled a lighter from somewhere and lit one of the little candles after setting it amongst the dirt.

Seemingly satisfied, the woman leaned back and sat on one of the raised roots.

He sat down slowly and watched the woman as she stared at something only she could see.

He was still attempting to figure out how to word his question politely when she spoke.

"This is where my parents got married."

She idly drew in the dirt with a procured stick. "Every now and then I come out here and light a candle in their memory." She sighed, "It sounds silly, I know, but it was something my Mother used to do on Christmas to remember her family and friends that were dead or worlds away."

"It is not silly at all."

Hazel eyes reflected the moonlight when she looked up at him.

Speaking truthfully, John shifted his gaze to the tiny flame as it burned brightly. "What you do to remember and honor your parents is something I would prefer to do instead of going to the Spartan monument again."

Before coming to Tamworth, John had visited the Spartan memorial site. Though he appreciated the effort put forth and indeed liked the idea that the sacrifices of his Brothers and Sisters would not be forgotten, he was not satisfied with that. The people that left flowers and trinkets or paid their respects at the Memorial did not_ know_ the Spartans. They knew _of _the Spartans, but they did not know the Spartans as humans. They did not know their names, they could not pay respect to a wall of armor.

This little candle, to him, spoke of far more than a Statue.

Lost in his thoughts, John didn't notice Gabby's movement until something was pushed into his hands.

"Light your own candle and remember your family then."

He stared at the lighter and candle in his hands with shock.

Gabby was willing to let him light his own candle here? In this place that she considered special and sacred.

o**OO**o

Gabby pretended not to notice the slight tremor than shook the man's' hands as he set the small candle down beside hers and lit the wick.

She sensed that this was very important to John and remained quiet, merely watching the two flames burn bright.

When he sat down again, he was almost touching her shoulder.

"Thank you, Gabrielle Edwards."

She smiled at the use of her full name and the very heartfelt gratitude he displayed as he carefully laid a burly arm over her shoulders and squeezed gently.

"It's no problem, John Chiefs."

He retracted his arm but remained seated. They remained in a respectful silence as the candles burned. Watching the flames flicker from the wind until they finally snuffed out, wisps of smoke trailing in the air.

The breeze grew slightly stronger and blew the woman's dress so that it tickled his leg. The two would have remained seated or a while longer, if John had not heard the sound of something falling from above.

Gabby let out a small shriek when his arms suddenly yanked her from her seat and pushed her behind his person in the space of two seconds.

The sound of glass breaking cut off her flustered questioning.

Peering around the man, she looked for whatever had broken and a small gasp left her.

Stepping away from John, who looked rather tense, she picked up one of the larger shards of colored glass.

o**OO**o

The sudden noise in the peaceful and near silent night had John tense with the sudden adrenalin rush. All these new emotions had left him wired in a way that he had not been since he was a very young boy.

As there was no danger, John relaxed as much as he had ever been able to and knelt beside the woman who had a smile on her face but tears in her eyes.

Concern prickled in his chest as she let out a choked laugh.

"I-I thought they had taken them all down!" she breathed excitedly, carefully fingering the remnants of what used to be a bottle.

"Please explain."

She looked up at him with such happiness in her eyes.

"This is where my parents got married but it's also where they had my Sweet Sixteenth, sort of a coming of age birthday party, and when I was little I loved fairies and Unicorns and all of that girly stuff, so for my birthday, they put candles in all of these stained bottles and hung them up in this tree." She sniffed and touched the glass as if it were precious. "It was so beautiful, and I didn't really understand why they insisted on having the party all the way out here at night until they took the blindfold off. They gave me my own little piece of magic for the night…" she trailed off and wiped at her eyes, "I'd thought that they had taken them all down, but I guess they missed one."

John stared at the broken shards that had reduced the woman to, apparently happy, tears.

Not knowing what to say, or if he should even say anything, the man merely sat beside her and waited for her to speak again.

He had waited for only a minute when a loud whistling sound filled the air and colors exploded in the sky, a loud boom echoing in the clearing.

His head snapped towards the explosion, fearing for a moment that something terrible had happened, but a soft hand on his tense shoulder grounded him.

"That's Rangi and Paul's surprise." Gabby set the glass down and dried her cheeks. "It's what they were giggling about, I was the only other person to know about the fireworks," she snorted, "And that's because I found them in their truck."

Once again, John relaxed his muscles and watched the display.

"C'mon, let's find a better view."

Doing as asked, John left the cover of the tree and gracefully sat beside the woman on the grass. Boomer and O'Neill barked excitedly at the colorful explosions, leaping every so often at the sky as if they could catch one of the sparks.

"It was certainly a surprise." He murmured, knowing Gabby would hear him despite the soft tone.

Her laughter bounced around in the fields and colors bloomed in her eyes as the fireworks lit up the darkened sky.

"But it was a good one, right?"

He mirrored her smile.

"Yes, it definitely was."

He felt the warmth that radiated from the woman as her should brushed his bicep as they sat back and watched the fireworks light up the night with showers of color.

Peace. It was a wonderful feeling.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Whew, that was the longest chapter I have ever written!_

_Click on the pretty blue words, you know you want too!_

_Razz_


	15. Chapter 15

_Thank you all for the support, your kind, supportive and funny reviews make me smile all day!_

_Enjoy!_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 15**

John glanced down at the small piece of paper with a name and an address scrawled across its surface in rigid handwriting. Before him stood a large building, it fit snugly between a small warehouse type structure and another large shed type shop. Above the large doorway a sign with _'Rick's Woodc__raft'_ carved into dark wood stood proudly. Designs were seemingly burned into the edges and around the raised sections, creating shadows that emphasised the lettering, he noticed with interest.

Pocketing the paper, John opened the door and slowly stepped inside. A bell tinkled as the door closed.

The odd feeling in his stomach was most certainly _not_ caused by anxiety.

Not at all.

Swallowing, the man allowed excitement to mingle in with the not-anxiety as he took in the many decorations, furniture and sculptures scattered about the room in what looked like organised chaos. Dust motes and sawdust swirled in the air, the natural light coming through the barred windows lighting up the room with a natural, warm glow.

On the left side of the store a heavy looking work bench and counter stood against the wall. Behind the counter there was a wide doorway. Beyond the entrance, brown eyes observed the completely disorganised chaos of what looked to be a large workroom.

Tearing his eyes away from the intriguing sight, he noticed a bright red sign telling customers to ring the buzzer if they needed service. Doing so, he lightly tapped the bright button. A loud buzz echoed from the workshop and moments later the burly figure of the carpenter appeared in the doorway.

Rick wore worn, but tough looking clothing and was covered in sawdust. Dark eyebrows rose in surprise when his eyes landed on John before a grin stretched across his face. Pulling a pair of protective glasses from their perch on his nose and setting them on the counter, the man ruffled his grey and black hair roughly. The action sent a thick cloud of sawdust into the air, many of the particles settled on his shoulders while the rest lazily drifted towards the floor.

"G'day there, John." The man tugged his hand free from a scarred leather glove before offering it for him to shake. After a firm but friendly handshake the carpenter beckoned him into the workshop.

There was a slight limp to Ricks' step as he moved ahead, causing his gait to be slightly uneven.

"_A__n old injury perhaps." _John wondered briefly, not willing to voice his question until he knew this man better.

"So, you mentioned wanting to learn how to do somethin' like this-" he flapped his hand in the vague direction of a few half finished chests and other works, "-at the markets, but before I can teach you anythin', I need to get a basic idea of what you already know."

His eagerness was not dampened by his complete lack of knowledge on the subject.

"I do not have any experience with woodwork." "_Unless__ you count making wooden spears and spikes with a dagger." _He added the second part mentally, figuring that Rick could do without knowing his Spartan training exploits.

Scratching at the stubble dusting his jaw, Rick made a soft sound of acknowledgement, his eyes thoughtful.

After a long minute, Rick straightened and set his hands on his hips.

"Would you be interested in becoming my apprentice, of sorts?" He waved his hand randomly in the air, his expression guarded but curious.

"Apprentice?" He asked politely but carefully, testing the word on his tongue and watching the others reaction. There was something odd, not necessarily suspicious, about this man. It was almost as if there was an ulterior motive behind his efforts, he decided. John had no experience with this trade and was well into his life already, it seemed odd to offer such a position to one such as he.

Rick chuckled gruffly. "Yes, apprentice, trainee, whatever you want to call yourself, seeing as you'll be learning from nothing, if you accept my offer."

He folded his arms loosely behind his back and watched Rick closely. "Not that I do not appreciate your offer, I am curious as to _why_ you are offering it."

Holding his toothpick between two fingers, Rick laughed softly.

"This leg-" he patted his right leg, "-is makin' the bigger jobs harder than it needs to be. Plus, I could really use the help, as you can see, I've got plenty of half-finished jobs waitin' to be completed."

Brown eyes briefly roved over the backless chairs, half-carved figures and disassembled tables. Though John sensed the truth in his words, there seemed to be something else encouraging his actions.

The odd light in the carpenters eyes only proved his suspicions.

"And?"

This time, Rick's chuckle was somewhat different, as if he were laughing at some inside joke or memory.

"_And_ because I owe you my life."

A different expression overcame the craftsmen then. A nostalgic but sombre air surrounding his person as a grim smile twisted his lips.

"I never saw your face, but I'd recognise your voice anywhere, Chief."

It felt as if a hand of ice had gripped his heart. It was over. His peace. His new life. The reporters would swarm, then the worshippers, then the haters. The cries of _'abomination'_ would shatter his quiet life and-

"I owe you my life, Chief, your secret is safe with me, soldiers honour."

Green eyes held promise and respect, and despite the queasiness he felt at being blind-sided, the truth he heard in the words had his chest deflating with a soft, but relieved, whoosh of air.

Without prompting, the other man pulled two simple wooden chairs made from warm, brown wood from their spot against the wall and settled himself in one. John sank gracefully into the other, his eyes never leaving the carpenters face.

"When I first saw you in the markets I knew you were a soldier," a bemused snort, "Hell, I think everyone figured that out just by lookin' at you, but it wasn't until you caught that red-head and the crate that I started suspectin'." He rolled the toothpick holding hand at the wrist, a lazy dismissive gesture. "It was your voice that confirmed it."

"My voice?" He had never been conscious of his voice before, but now he was acutely aware of how damn _deep_ it was. True to his memory, only a few other males had voices a low as his, now that he truly thought about it. His voice seemed to be his defining feature; soldiers always seemed to give a sigh of relief when they heard his voice over the communications link.

Giving himself a mental shake, John pushed the thoughts from his mind and smoothed away the slight frown that he knew was on his face.

"Shit yeah, ain't ever heard another human with a voice like _that._" At this, Rick snickered, but then sobered. "I was honest when I said that I could use the help around here but…If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be alive, my family wouldn't be alive, and I wouldn't have been able to see my little girl again." Rick's eyes became slightly unfocused as he seemed to become lost in memories.

What was he supposed to say to _that_?

After a moment of floundering for an appropriate comment, Rick began speaking again, saving from from possibly making a fool of himself.

"You probably don't remember me, but my squad was one of the last left in Côte d'Azur after the evacuation of the city, our retreat was cut off by Covenant forces and we were trapped in a building…" A memory surged forward from deep within his mind, once buried beneath a myriad of other violent and bloody memories.

"_We're surrounded, Covenant are breaking in through the lower sections and-GRENADE!"_

"_Get down!"_

_**Boom!**_

"_We have injured and need immediate evacuation!"_

"_Does anyone read me?"_

"_Please, we're trapped in the West City __Bank Tower, can anyone hear me?"_

_John and the rest of Blue Team easily distinguished the frantic pleas from the sounds of battle that filtered through the transmission._

_They were only two blocks away, and a Pelican was already en-route to their evac posit__ion._

_With firm hand gestures, John ordered his team into a dead run for the trapped soldiers. The Nuke would destroy the city, taking any human or alien beings with it._

"_This is Blue Leader, we read you and are closing in." He said calmly, not replying to __the cries of relief he received._

_Fred flanked his left and slipped a fresh clip into his Battle Rifle, picking off a pack of four Grunts waddling towards an unmanned Wraith, though why they did when it was a smoking pile of twisted metal was beyond him._

_Li__nda split away from the major body of Blue Team and leapt fluidly up a fire escape until she found a perfect sniping position hidden from view. The powerful bangs of her Sniper Rifle booming seconds later._

_Very little had to be spoken as Kelly and Fred spl__it away from himself and circled around the group of Covenant forces in order to flank them from the other side._

_The Spartans moved with eerie grace despite their bulky armour as they dove behind destroyed cars and cracked blockades for shelter, all the wh__ile carving a bloody path towards the entrance through the Grunts and scattered Elites. Thankfully there were no Hunters present._

_Once the courtyard was clear, Linda rejoined the group, shouldering her Sniper and relieving a corpse of his Battle Rifle, tak__ing a moment too gently close the deceased eyes in a show of respect._

_There was no need for a spoken command as the team moved as one into the building, shooting and occasionally bludgeoning their way to the higher levels in search of the trapped Marines._

"_SAAAAAARGE!" Four metallic green helmets with orange visors snapped towards the feminine scream._

"_CORPORAL!" A deep and accented voice bellowed from another direction. The cries of the other men for their separated squad mate were drowned by the primal r__oars of two Elite Majors as they saw the coming Spartans._

_Without breaking their stride the team split. The female Spartans ran for the Corporal while Fred and he barrelled towards the two Elites, working seamlessly in tandem like a machine of destruction.__ Johns' armoured fist caught the second red garbed Elite in the stomach while Fred's blade lashed out and sunk into the base of its skull with a wet crunch._

_The Majors' body hadn't even touched the floor before Fred snapped his leg out and swept the other__ Elites legs from under him. Two burning shots of plasma screamed past Johns head as he rolled out of the way just in time before coming to a crouch. His Rifle spat lead death towards the Grunts and Jackals that rounded the corner. He was picking the last __cowering Grunt off just as Fred finished off the second Major._

"_Sir, we have two survivors and three dead over here."_

_Linda's smooth voice interrupted the quiet as the two males stepped over the dozens of bodies riddled with bullet holes, and the occasiona__l plasma burn, and made their way towards the sounds of gunfire._

"_Head for the roof and wait for evac."_

_Two little green lights in his HUD shone in affirmation of his order._

_The remaining Covenant squads didn't stand a snowballs chance in Hell as the Spart__ans peppered their sides with bullets and the Marines rained down upon them with an assortment of human and Covenant weaponry from where they had previously been making their last stand._

_When the last Grunt fell the sudden silence was slightly disconcertin__g. A timid "Blue Team?" broke the quiet._

"_Affirmative."_

_Enhanced hearing picked up the sound of several sighs of relief, plus a pained groan._

_From behind several quickly made blockades two UNSC soldiers cautiously stepped forward._

"_Holy shit…" One breathed__, staring at the impressive and daunting figures the Spartans made._

"_Sirs!" The second said, a Sergeant with a plasma burn glistening on his forearm. Despite himself, John was slightly impressed when the man gave a sharp salute and didn't flinch as the mus__cles flexed, possibly due too still riding on an Adrenaline high._

"_At ease." The man relaxed, of only marginally. "What's the situation?"_

"_Sir, we have one major injury and two dead. What's the news on evac?"_

"_A Pelican is on its way, how severe is your __injured?"_

_The man blew out an explosive breath, beckoning the Spartan behind the barriers._

_Fred turned and moved further back down the hall, checking the bodies and keeping watch._

"_Our Medic was killed, the rest of us only have basic first aid skills-" he __explained as they made their way over to a man lying down in the most sheltered part of the room, "-we did what we could but…" He ran a hand through his hair agitatedly._

_Settling his Rifle down, John pulled back the bandages covering the lower half of the __soldiers leg. He frowned softly at the sight, the white of the bone stuck out from the middle of where his shin _should _be and the flesh that wasn't black and crisped was red and inflamed. He would most likely lose the leg, if he survived._

_With deft and sur__e movements, ignoring the pained pants and muffled shrieks the man made, he tightly re-bandaged the wound, unable to do much more at the moment._

_A quick survey of the remaining soldiers told him that none of them, in their injured and fatigued states, wou__ld be able to carry the man without a stretcher, and since they hand nothing they could improvise with, John gently picked the man up and slung him over his shoulder, mindful of his injury._

"_I f-feel like a bloody sack of p-potatoes." The man muttered weak__ly in an accented voice._

_Ignoring the comment and the weak chuckles it caused, John ordered them to move out._

Blinking back into the present, Johns eyes moved from the suddenly very familiar, but more grizzled face, to the leg he now _knew_ was fake.

"_That __explains the limp."_

Chuckling grimly, Rick pulled the pant leg up, showing the prosthetic leg that replaced the lower half of his left leg.

"Because of you and the other Spartans, I only lost my leg, not my life."

Letting out a soft sigh, John let the tense muscles in his back loosen and relax.

"I didn't mean to give you a heart attack." He muttered in an attempt to lighten the situation. John gave the man a tired but amused look.

He did not trust Rick yet, but he did sense the truth in his oath. He would not betray his secret to another.

"What would you have done if I was not who you thought me to be?"

Rick sucked in a breath and began to speak, but stopped as he realised that he had not thought his answer through. Finally, he shrugged. "Pretend to be drunk."

They shared a brief laugh.

Rick sobered again, though his expression was not grim, but brutally open and honest. "I never got to thank you for savin' my hide back then, and now that I have the opportunity to, I am not lettin' it pass…plus,-" he smirked sardonically, "-havin' someone with your strength would be damn handy in this line of work." At his quirked brow and small grin, Rick snickered. "So, if you want the job, my door's always open." He waved in a half grand manner towards the door, which was indeed open, though he gathered that the carpenter was speaking figuratively.

Eyes glazing over, John sorted through the pros and cons of accepting the man's' offer.

Eventually, an excited grin appeared on his face.

"When can I start?"

o**OO**o

Gabby threw down her pen with relief and slumped in her chair, mentally exhausted. She _loathed_ doing the bills and absolutely hated dealing with the people at the bank. Glaring at the phone, she set it back in the cradle so it could stay charged and shoved away from the desk. She barely refrained from stomping her feet as the left her study.

It didn't matter what time, it didn't matter what day or what month it was, but when she called the bank she always, _always_ got the same old, infuriating teller.

"_Stupid, snooty old__ hag."_

No matter what the old bat said or asked she always managed to sound condescending and it set the blond woman on edge.

A whine interrupted her heated glaring contest with the poor plant on the windowsill.

The heavy frown that twisted her brows disappeared as hazel eyes met the baby blues of Boomer. The Dane seemed to sense her foul mood and had responded accordingly. Tale tuck between his legs and head bowed submissively, Boomer's posture made the woman let out a heavy, calming breath.

Kneeling down, the woman hugged the dog to her chest and murmured soft apologies until his tail began to wag and his ears perked up again. Smiling softly, she gave him one more pat before standing and stretching her stiff muscles.

Now that she had finished her business for the day, she could finally do something interesting.

After standing there for a full minute, she had drawn a blank for exactly what she could do.

The horses had been cared for, the barn was clean and there were no repairs that needed her attention.

Man, without Kirk or John around she really had nothing to do any more.

Shrugging, the woman thought that she may as well go for a ride and give one of the horses some exercise.

Pulling on her worn boots and slipping her trademark hat on, the woman locked the house up and made her way to the stables. Boomer racing ahead in eager anticipation.

Slipping inside the tack room, Gabby inhaled deeply and felt all the remaining tension in her body slip away as the warm smell of worn leather and the earthy smell from the paddocks filled her lungs. Picking up the tack she needed and pulling the small food pack and first aid kit she always took with her when she went riding, Gabby strode over to the smallest of the paddocks and set her cargo over a fence post.

Pulling a carrot from her pocket and picking up the clip-on lead rope, Gabby clambered over the fence and let loose a shrill whistle. The answering whinny brought a happy grin to her face, causing the laugh-lines around her eyes to become more prominent. Seconds later, her ten year old Australian Stock Horse trotted towards her. Of all of her horses and ponies, Thunder was her favourite by far.

He was one of the first horses she had bred and raised on her own and he was possibly her most prized animal, asides Boomer of course. Holding her hand out, fingers flat, she offered the carrot to the horse.

Without any hesitation, the cream coloured horse pranced over to the woman and picked the offering from her hand with his lips. Butting her chest with his nose when he finished as if to say _"That's it?"_.

Snorting quietly, the woman clipped the lead on and gave his neck an affectionate scratch. A deep rumble echoed in his large chest in satisfaction.

"C'mon boy, time to saddle up."

o**OO**o

John huffed in frustration and yanked out _another_ bent nail. His form was perfect, it was just his damn strength that kept screwing him over.

"_Well, it does have its uses."_ He thought with a humoured smirk as he straightened out the bent nail between his thumb and first finger.

This time, he was more careful with his strength as he hammered the nail into the wood.

Despite his earlier frustration, John truly was enjoying his new found career. Rick and he had sorted out his pay and he was now officially a craftsman in training under the other man and it was exciting. This was all new, and though he had yet to truly create something, John was enjoying the construction work he was already doing.

Setting the hammer aside, John picked up a wad of sandpaper and began smoothing down the rough wood and fixing the corners. After a good twenty minutes of sanding, he blew the last of the sawdust away picked up a tin of enamel. A smile unconsciously worked its' way onto his face as he worked the brush over the smooth wood. Satisfaction and pride swelled in his chest.

John had made photo frame.

And he was damn proud of it.

Rick had gone over all of the basic tools and techniques for beginners, before showing him some of the simpler things he could take a crack at making. He had decided on a simple wooden photo frame to test his skills and control. Several broken pieces of wood and many bent nails after originally starting his little project, John had almost finished.

While waiting for the enamel to dry, John flipped through one of the books Rick had handed him. They were filled with detailed instructions on how to build and create a great number of different items with wood. He read the text hungrily, eager to learn all he could.

The man had almost finished the chapter on bookcases when Rick ambled over to the workstation he had allowed John to use.

The not-nervousness made itself known again as brown eyes watched the more experienced craftsmen closely inspect the still drying frame.

Finally, Rick turned away from the frame and gave him a small grin. "Not bad at all for a first timer, once you get the hang of this I'll teach you how to use wood links and glue instead of nails, makes the finished product look cleaner."

John tilted his head in a show of understanding.

"Now, let's have a look at the bigger machines." Rick clapped his gloved hands together and led John over to some sort of contraption attached to a table that looked like a torture device.

This could be interesting, he thought with a smirk.

o**OO**o

Gabby had a jaw splitting smile upon her face as Thunder lived up to his namesake and thundered over the grassy planes bordering the mountain forests. Astride her horse, the woman truly felt alive. The sun warmed her back and the wind snapped at her hair and the dark mane and tail of the Stock Horse.

Boomer galloped near the stallion, the massive dog easily keeping pace with the horses' long stride.

Thunders' muscles bunched and coiled as he leapt over an old log. Boomer faithfully following the path the cream coloured horse wove.

After another five minutes of solid galloping, the horse skidded to a stop when she tugged on the reins.

The horses sides heaved and he neighed happily, ecstatic from the heavy exercise.

Letting out a breathless whoop, the woman pulled her hat from her head and ran a hand through her windswept hair.

_This_ is what horse-riding was about. Losing yourself in the speed and power.

She leant down and gave Thunders' neck a good rub, silently thanking him for the ride.

He snorted heavily, heart beating a fast tempo and his powerful body radiating immense heat. The sun caused his sweat slicked fur to shine.

Hazel eyes shone with glee as the woman gazed from atop her steed. Putting her hat back on her head, the woman gently nudged the horse into a walk, not allowing his body to cool down too much before he had a proper walk-down period so that his muscles wouldn't stiffen.

They had come a long way during their speedy ride, and it would take at least an hour and a half to get back at this pace. She glanced at her watch and smiled airily, they had plenty of time before sunset.

After a short while, Thunders' ear began twitching, his breathing becoming nervous as he scented the air. With a frown, Gabby glanced down at Boomer and saw that the dog's ear were pressed against his skull, nose high in the air and his tail no longer wagging.

Something was wrong.

Frowning, Gabby loosened her stock man's whip from her hip and scanned the area for the source of her companions distress. Beneath her, Thunder was becoming skittish, nervously pawing at the ground whenever they stopped. Boomer stayed close to the pairs side, eyes never stopping their careful observation.

Finally, the source of their distress became apparent.

The remains of what _used_ to be a kangaroo.

Frown deepening, Gabby pulled Thunder to a stop, murmuring softly to keep him calm. They were still in the open, scattered trees were their only companions for miles, the grass was barely three inches long. Hazel eyes saw no predators, and there was nowhere for them to hide. Keeping the reins in hand and her whip in the other, Gabby dismounted the Stock Horse and moved to inspect the body. Even though the whip wouldn't be able to do much damage, the sound would scare most creatures away and if she had to, the whip could cause a nasty sting.

Boomer cautiously snuffed the ground near the body, a low growl coming from him as he picked up a scent that he did not like.

Hazel eyes took in the lifeless eyes of the dead animal and a small sigh escaped her.

"_Poor thing."_

For the most part, there was little flesh remaining. Whatever had taken down the Kangaroo had eaten almost every eatable part of the creature. It's head had obviously been gnawed upon and it was missing a limb, she spotted it several feet away. It had also been picked clean.

She had seen enough of Boomer's finished meals to know what grooves carved into the dead animals bones meant.

A low curse left her mouth and she pressed her lips together in a thin line as she found several paw prints scattered near the corpse.

"_Wild dogs."_

Dingoes and feral dogs had not been a problem for years, but when they surfaced, they caused trouble. Killing cattle and occasionally harming people.

More often than not they carried rabies, and seeing how that was one of the few viruses that science had yet to find a cure for, this created a danger for the population. With a sigh, Gabby realised that she would be making a call to the Tamworth Council, as it was her civic duty to report what she had found.

Narrowing her eyes, Gabby eyed the stream in the distance, the white puffs of hundreds of sheep filled the large paddock. The water and animals were probably what had attracted the animals here, she concluded. What was worse, was that there were a number of camping grounds people used frequently on weekends and during holidays. She bit her lip, the grounds were used mostly by families.

Re-mounting Thunder, she urged him into a brisk canter.

Her good mood somewhat diminished, the woman sighed and kept Boomer in her sights, today just wasn't a good day.

o**OO**o

"You did well today, John, I think you'll be makin' bigger furniture in no time." Rick laughed as he locked the front door to his shop.

John rubbed the back of his neck in a somewhat bashful manner at the praise. "I apologise for breaking the chair."

Rick shrugged his shoulders and waved off his apology. "It was my fault too, it was way too soon to be lettin' you handle power saws." Snorting thickly, the man slid the keys into his pocket and shouldered his bag. "See you tomorrow around 8:30 in the mornin', have a good night."

Returning the farewell, John wandered back to his truck and took a last glance at the entrance to the store.

The man grinned at his accomplishment. He had a real job, one that was about creation instead of destruction.

Today was a good day, he thought as he started 'The Beast' up and pulled onto the main road.

The stares he got as he drove by were blissfully ignored as John began the drive home.

Carefully tucked in the foot space in the passenger side of the truck was his first creation, the photo frame, and something akin excitement built in his chest. He had originally decided to make the frame for Gabby, but only intended to give it to the woman if it turned out like it was supposed to. Considering the honest praise he had gotten from Rick, John had decided that it was acceptable.

He only hoped she thought so too.

o**OO**o

"_Thanks for letting us know, Gabby dear."_

"It's no problem, Mary, is the herd in the lower paddocks?"

A worried sigh from over the phone. _"Yes, Bobby herded them all down there a few __months ago so that the upper field got a chance to grow back, and I'm afraid that they will just have to stay there until he gets over this damn cold."_

Gabby stifled a giggle when she heard an indignant cry of _"I'm not ruddy sick, woman!"_ in the background. Judging by how his speech slurred and the coughing fit he had after the cry, Bobby certainly was sick.

"I can come down and round them up for you if you like on Thursday?"

"_Oh, you're too kind, dear. I'll have a few pies ready for you when you're done."_

"Now that's motivation!"

The women shared a laugh and bid the other farewell before hanging up.

Glancing at the clock, Gabby stood and stretched and pulled her shirt off and made for the bathroom. After that ride, she smelt like horse and sweat. Dropping her clothes in the hamper, the woman turned the shower on and waited for the water to heat up before stepping in.

After taking care of Thunder and Boomer, the woman had brought all of her horses into the stables for the coming night before calling up the Council and informing them of the canine situation.

Trackers would be coming out tomorrow to sweep the area and she would be required to show them where she had found the dead kangaroo.

"_That will be fun."_ She thought sarcastically, stepping from the shower and wrapping a fluffy towel around herself.

The woman dried off and slipped into her favourite pyjamas. An oversized t-shirt with a faded image of a smiley face on the front and a pair of old cotton pants. Classy.

Towelling her hair dry, the woman fell gracelessly onto the couch and turned the television on.

When hunger clawed at her stomach the woman settled for a bowl of cereal for dinner, too worn out to bother making anything else. Boomer, having already eaten his dinner, had sprawled out on the rug and gone to sleep.

She was just swallowing the last bite when someone knocked on her front door.

Boomer's ears perked up comically and his tail immediately began to work back and forth.

"_It could only be one person then."_

Grinning, the woman opened the door-

-and got a blast of cold air.

"_Holy shit, that's freezing!" _Horror dawned on her and a red stain filled her cheeks.

It was suddenly very cold and she wasn't wearing a bra.

o**OO**o

John watched with confusion as Gabby suddenly went very red and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Erm, hi."

Cocking his head to the side, John watched the woman as she awkwardly tried to cover her upper half.

If possible her blush deepened. "It's cold, come inside." She muttered, stepping to the side so he could enter.

Boomer yipped and nosed his hand as the man entered the home.

Behind him, Gabby shut the door with one hand, still trying to cover her chest with the other.

"Is this a bad time?"

Blowing out a puff of air, the woman sat down on the couch and pulled a pillow into her lap, hugging it to her chest.

"No, it was just suddenly very cold."

He rose a brow in silent question, which apparently was the wrong thing to do as she became rather flustered.

"And, well, I'm not wearing a br-you know what, it's a female thing, don't worry!"

Realising that he seemed to be causing the discomfort, John made to leave, ignoring the slight hurt he seemed to feel at that.

"I apologise for making you uncomfortable; I will come by another time."

By the time the woman realised his intention, he was already opening the door.

Four things happened then.

Gabby launched herself from the couch and ran after him.

John opened the door.

A second cold breeze gusted into the house.

And lastly, John understood why she was so embarrassed.

o**OO**o

Gabby froze with her arms reaching out towards the retreating man as a particularly chilling and heavy blast of air pulled at her hair and forced the baggy shirt to plaster itself to her front.

Mortification swept through her from head to toe as, despite the thin layer of cloth, her chest and its suddenly "pointer" aspects were rather visible, even after the wind died down.

John cleared his throat, "I see what you mean by cold."

The blonde woman was ready to slam the door in his face for that out of pure humiliation, but when she finally looked up she saw only kindness and gentle mischief in those expressive eyes (which never strayed from her own hazel orbs).

Letting her arms rest over her chest, she stamped down on her embarrassment and couldn't help the self-conscious smile from quirking her lips up. There was the rustle of fabric and then Johns heavy jacket was held out before her.

Accepting the offer, the woman slipped the jacket on, revelling in the fact that it was still warm.

"Thank you." She said softly, stepping aside and holding the jacket closed with one hand. "Come on inside," she rolled her eyes and snorted, "You'll catch a cold."

He toed his boots off and left them next to her small collection of shoes and shut the door behind him.

"Oh, you went down and visited Rick today didn't you?" her nose and cheeks were still flushed from the cold when she curled up in the armchair, her previous mortification already put behind her. "How did it go?"

With a wide grin, he held out a small item wrapped tightly in a cloth. She saw the barest traces of nervousness in his brown eyes as she accepted the parcel. Peeling the material away, she felt a bubbly laugh build in her chest as she pulled the photo frame free.

She traced the glossy, dark wood with a finger and grinned impishly.

"Did you make this?"

He looked like a kid who'd found out Christmas had come early.

"Yes, Rick offered me something similar to an apprenticeship."

"That's fantastic, and this is beautiful, thank you." She carefully set the frame down on the coffee table.

"Actually…" John began slowly, losing some of his boyish excitement, "He offered me the job as a thank you." He ran a hand through his dark hair and her brows shot up.

"As a thank you…for what?"

"I saved his life, years ago." Her eyes widened at the admission.

"He knows who you are?" she said, somewhat startled and concerned for his privacy. Did he react the same way he did when she figured it out? Though he didn't seem concerned, she observed.

"Indeed, it was my voice that finalised it for him." Brown eyes refocused on her when she 'hmmed' softly.

"I can see how that happened, you do have a very unique voice."

"So I've been told."

Her lips quirked up into a small smile at his dry humour.

Boomer huffed and made himself comfortable beside John on the couch, resting his head in the man's lap. Seeing the dog, Gabby recalled her earlier encounter, a small frown appearing on her face.

"Please don't go for any of your morning runs for a little while, there may be some feral dogs or dingoes living in the area."

John's eyes moved from Boomer to her like lightning, though his hand never stopped petting the dogs furry head.

"Dogs?" One brow rose as if to say _"Look who you're talking to here."_

She rolled her eyes but kept talking. "Yes, dogs. I found an animal carcass and some footprints a few miles from here, and their territory probably covers our properties, meaning they will hunt here if they want too."

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him stiffen slightly. "Just…please be careful at the very least?" she pleaded, "They might be rabid, and there is no cure for rabies."

He eyed her levelly for a moment, seeming to weigh something mentally.

"I will not go for any more runs _if_," he stressed, "If you do me the same courtesy and don't go riding alone. Deal?"

Despite the reasonable tone, she felt slightly indignant until she realised that she had basically asked the man to stay indoors to avoid some _dogs_ when he was a bloody Spartan that had faced down Brutes and Elites and the damn _Flood_. He was right to ask her to be careful too.

"Alright, _but_ I have to take a tracking party and some experts out to where I found the dead roo tomorrow and then I promised to herd Mary and Bob's cattle into the higher paddocks." She bit her lip and gave him an apologetic look.

He sighed softly, "So long as you are not alone tomorrow, but will you be alone when you round up the cattle?"

"Yes."

Another sigh, "When?"

Despite herself, she chuckled. "Thursday morning."

John smiled briefly, "Good, Rick says Thursdays and Sundays are our days off, I will accompany you."

A warm and tender emotion grew inside her when she realised John was just as protective of her as Kirk and Rangi, willing to sacrifice his time just to make sure she was safe.

After hammering out a time to meet, the man stood to leave and she started to take his jacket off, but he held up his hand. "It's still cold."

He laughed when she threw a pillow at him, catching it easily and setting is aside the snoring Boomer.

"I'll see you Thursday then." He pulled his shoes back on and opened the door, thankfully, there was no chilly breeze this time.

"G'night, John." Johns arm was startlingly warm when she laid her hand over his forearm in a friendly gesture.

His arms moved slightly, as if they were going to pull her into a gentle embrace, much like Rangi and Julie did, but instead he smiled softly and stepped through the open door and into the cold night.

"Goodnight, Gabby."

o**O**oo**O**o

…_I had waaay to much fun with that._

_To mushy too fast? Yes, no, maybe?_

_Razz_


	16. Chapter 16

_Sorry about the wait folks, AN down at the end explaining why the wait was so long. It's important, so please don't skip it._

_A slight warning, there is a bit of swearing in the chapter. Nothing to vulgar…I suppose. _

_Much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 16**

Gabby considered herself a rather easygoing and patient person. That patience had been hard earned through years of working with animals that were skittish by nature, by occasionally minding the emotional and loud children of her companions and by simply dealing with some of her more…eccentric friends.

Today though…today every single _ounce _of that patience was being burnt away by the absolute fools she was in the present company of.

If they uttered one more of those _damned _pick-up lines she was going to hurt them. Her mother and Kirk both made sure she knew how to throw a decent punch and kick properly. She was still undecided as to whether she would aim for the nose or the crotch though.

"If I made a keyboard, I'd put "U" and "I" together and press "Enter"."

"_Crotch. Definitely the crotch."_

Ignoring the chuckles that echoed in the truck, the woman scanned the grassy plain, searching for the kangaroo carcass or familiar landmarks.

"Are those pants from outer space? Cause that ass is out of this world."

As it turned out, the expert tracker and animal control persons had been delayed in the next town over, having been called away the previous day to deal with a crocodile that had made itself at home in a backyard pool. Since they were unavailable, the Council roped together a slapdash hunting party and sent them out to catch or kill the dogs. Considering that they were all ex-UNSC, death was the likely outcome for the canines.

"The word of the day is "legs." Let's go back to my place and spread the word."

The engine of the all-terrain vehicle the party had brought out snarled as her foot urged the truck to go slightly faster than necessary. She was very glad that she had had the foresight to tightly strap her dirt bike in the bed and bring it along; as soon as she was able the woman was heading back to her farm and getting away from these _idiots_.

"All right lads, leave the lady alone, she might play for the other team after all." This caused the other two too snigger and snort while he smirked at the scowl he received in the rear-view mirror. His smirk showing that he knew just how irritated Gabby was with their comments and enjoyed it.

The tight ball of anger in her chest loosened slightly with relief when her eyes saw the familiar tree that had stood several dozen meters away from the kangaroo carcass. Easing off on the gas, the woman searched the grass for the corpse.

Thankfully, she spotted the body soon enough and parked several feet away.

"That's the roo," she pointed towards the mass, noticing with distaste that a crow was pecking at the poor things eyeballs.

"We shall take it from here, thank you for _the_ _ride_." The leer that twisted Quint's face and the double meaning in his words nearly caused her to snap. His condescending tone, his bloody x-ray eyes and his cocky stance set her blood on fire with indignation and fury.

She nearly leapt from the truck in her haste to leave, her back ramrod straight and fists clenched. Tense hands undid the straps holding the bike in the bed, her movements' jerky with her irritation. It was rare that the women ever became this irate, excluding her dealings with the teller at the bank.

Gabby had never been able to stand fools like this. After she and her friends had been hounded by a group of asses like this at a party gone bad in their youth, the woman had grown a great distaste (or more like a greater distaste) of slimy little bastards that spoke like that or _leered_ at her like she was a piece of meat. She was never much of a feminist, but this kind of downright rude behavior was unacceptable in her books.

Growling under her breath, she hefted the bike from the truck (anger lending her greater than normal strength) and seated herself on the machine before pulling her hair into a severe ponytail.

It was as the woman was zipping up her tough cargo jacket that one of the men, the red-head with brown eyes and way too many freckles, trotted over and leaned casually against the back end of the truck.

"You said that you found the body yesterday, around two right?" he jerked a thumb towards the remains where his companions were prodding the bones and inspecting the tracks.

Fingering her dark, reflective sunglasses, the woman eyed him, the remnants of her anger and frustration hardening the normally kind hazel eyes.

After a stiff moment and a heavy exhalation, she answered, "Yes, I would guess the dogs had killed it sometime Sunday, maybe Saturday."

"That's what we think too," he nodded cordially, the polite attitude leaving her somewhat wary after all the jeering, "We'll be around later today and let you know what we find."

Her head cocked to the side as she wondered if he was only acting like a dick before because his friends were acting that way. It wasn't all that uncommon for people to act differently with their friends. Peer pressure and group mentality.

Swallowing her previous resentment, the woman tipped her hatless head in a show of understanding.

If he could be polite, so would she. Didn't mean he was forgiven though.

"Hey Ryan, has she agreed to peel your banana yet?" The other two shouted from a small distance away, having gotten bored with waiting for their third member to rejoin them.

Ryan's eyes widened and a choked sound caught in his throat when her lips curved into a snarl. Perhaps he had not seen just how upset she had been with the three, as he had been seated directly behind her in the truck.

She scowled. _Oh boy_, did she _scowl_.

"I…um…-"

The woman didn't let him finish.

"If you and your friends don't ditch this attitude, you will _be sorry_," He took a step back at the angry light in her eyes, "I am _not_ some _thing_ for you and your 'pals' to jeer at, if you want that kind of thing, go to a strip club, otherwise…" she felt the angry flush that rose on her cheeks and slipped the reflective shades on, "Piss. Off."

With that, she kicked the bike to life and shot off, a trail of dust rising in her wake.

Gabby snorted softly, already feeling the tension leave her shoulders.

"_Quite the exit, Mum would be proud."_

o**OO**o

Ryan winced at the dangerous tone the woman's voice had taken on before she sped off. Beneath the hot anger that twisted her face, the man had noticed the hurt and degradation that burned in her bright eyes.

She had been courteous and rather easy-going when they first arrived that morning at her farm, greeting the three with a calm smile and firm handshakes. At first, his friends had merely eyed her figure in the same way the stared at any moderately attractive female figure. It was only after she took the wheel and wrestled with the trucks controls that Kyle had begun muttering innuendos and shortly after, Kyle and Quint had begun shooting off their ridiculous pick-up lines and jokes.

He had joined in, he admitted with shame, and only now realized how much their stupid barbs and jokes had at affected Gabby.

They had gone too far and it had destroyed any respect she had for them.

Blowing out a sigh, the freckled man shouldered his rifle and hefted the collapsed traps from the bed of Quints' truck. Ignoring the clanking of the more inhumane traps Kyle had brought.

He resolved to speak with the boys before they headed in for the day.

Ryan felt a headache coming on at the very thought of such a conversation.

He wouldn't lie to himself, they were both sexist dicks.

But, they were his friends, so he would just have to suck it up.

"Hey, did she agree to be the Titanic and _go down_ on you?"

Ryan sighed as they snickered. Already he could feel a migraine building.

o**OO**o

The relative quiet of the store was shattered as a small purple hurricane blew into the store. The bell above the entrance jingled erratically as the door was thrust open and the hurricane barreled towards a happily surprised Rick.

The carpenter set the chair with a broken support down quickly before spreading his arms wide and catching the child as she leapt for him.

"PAPA!"

John watched with curiosity as his employer and teacher easily twirled the girl around in a circle, keeping their combined weight mainly focused on his remaining whole leg. The small child babbled about some nonsense while her father just bobbed his head along and listened patiently, picking wood chips from her hair that had transferred from him to her.

It was a rather warm moment that brought a smile on his scarred face. The tenderness with which Rick held the small child struck something deep within him. She trusted him completely as she wildly gestured with her arms and threw her weight about with no regard for her safety; she was safe in the close embrace of his arms.

Seeing the affection in his eyes, the adoration in hers and seeing the love between the both of them, John felt a glimmer of understanding for the longing Gabby had described, and often shown, for having a child of her own.

The blond woman had only spoken of her desire once, and even then it had been hidden within a childhood fantasy that she had spoken off, but saw the glances. The few times that they had journeyed down into the town together he would occasionally observe the glances that Gabby would cast a family when they walked by, or the soft smiles that warmed her eyes whenever she saw something that she depicted as cute. He pretended not to notice, and often provided something to distract her with when the softness in her eyes became sad with longing and the smiles faded. An inane question about something around them that he may or may not already know the answer too. A subtle nudge in a different direction. His interventions sometimes worked, and sometimes, they did not.

It bothered the man that there seemed to be so little that he could do for the woman in the end. Distractions and company could only go so far. He could safely say that Gabby was his closest living friend (human anyway). She had given and taught him so much, and he felt this need deep inside to give her something back.

A small frown dipped his brows as he set the chair he had been carrying into the showroom down, absentmindedly brushing a few stray specs of saw dust from the polished wood. John did not like it when she was sad, it was unsettling so see her so. He wanted to see her happy, to see her smile and laughed freely.

Troubled brown eyes flicked to the calendar hanging on the wall behind the counter, paying particular attention to the date.

It was thirty-nine days until Kirks scheduled arrival. Thirty-eight until Gabby and he were to leave for the aircraft that would fly them to _The Atlas._

Perhaps Kirk would pull her from her funk.

Shaking the musings from his mind, John made his way over to Rick and his child as he beckoned him over.

"Hannah, this is my apprentice, John. John, this is my daughter Hannah. Alli, my wife, had to go the Doctor's and dropped her off for the afternoon…"

Rick talked about his wife and John was struck unsure as too how to treat this situation. Wide, green eyes framed in dark lashes peered at him from the hiding place she sought in the crook of her father's shoulder. The child looked positively terrified at the sight of him.

o**OO**o

Gabby wiped the sweat from her brow with her forearm and tugged the thick gardening gloves from her hands. The woman let out a satisfied breath as she observed the now weed-free flower garden with a tired smile. Hours of de-weeding and pruning left her with a far nicer looking garden than before. Her vegetable patch hadn't looked this good in months.

It was just as the woman was stretching her sore muscles that the roar of an all-terrain vehicle echoed from the archway of trees that lined her driveway.

The smiled faded slightly as the sound rang as familiar.

The hunting party was back. Joy.

As the truck drew closer Boomer left his spot in the sun and stood slightly before her, nose raised as he scented the air with a low growl.

Frowning, the woman prepared herself for an unpleasant sight. With Boomer acting the same way he had when they had initially discovered the dead kangaroo, she assumed that the hunt had been successful and the dog was able to smell blood.

The gloves were tossed with little care into the wheelbarrow as the woman braced herself for what she might see. If there was blood involved, enough to aggravate Boomer so, it was likely that the guns had been put to use or the traps had been those of a less-than-legal nature. Bear traps were a possible culprit.

Gabby had a somewhat strong stomach. Having been raised on a farm, she had slowly become accustomed to blood and dealing with injured or distressed animals over time. The blond had dealt with horses with limbs broken or tangled in barbed wire, rough births and even horses injured during fights or she had the misfortune of stumbling across injured or dead wildlife. The dead kangaroo being a prime example.

There had been an incident a few years ago when Maggie, one of the small ponies had been attacked by an overzealous magpie protecting its nest and been partially blinded. Gabby had come home to find the pony with scratches all over her face and her left eyeball hanging from its socket. After nearly fainting from shock she had brought the distressed pony inside the barn and called the vet. She hadn't thrown up...much.

"…_but gun wounds…"_

Swallowing, she braced herself for what she might see. Guns were messy. They were designed to inflict as much damage as possible.

The truck pulled to a quick stop and Ryan nearly leapt from the cab in his haste to get out.

He made a beeline for her and skidded to a stop. Alarm trilled in her mind when she noticed the panic in his eyes.

"I need to borrow your truck!"

Her crossed arms slackened as her eyebrows rose to a comical height.

"You need-_what_?"

He began to explain when Quint burst from the back seat. The door slamming open with a loud bang.

"Get the bitch off of my truck so we can go to the hospital!" The man bellowed as he angrily stomped over to the driver's seat.

Gabby was taken aback not only by the anger in his voice, but by the blood that stained his shirt and pants.

Ryan tugged on her arm to get her closer to the truck. Bewildered, she didn't resist as he dragged her along.

"I'll explain on the way, but-help me lift this-we need to get her to the vets and Kyle needs to get to the hospital."

Numbly, Gabby helped Ryan lift the cage out of the truck and move it to hers. Once it was settled, she peeked under the blanket covering it, ignoring the others as Quint swung the truck around and sped away from her home.

Ryan jumped in surprise when she hissed a surprised breath through her teeth, his distress causing him to fumble with the rope he was using to secure the cage in the bed so that it didn't slide around.

"I know that it looks bad, I'll tell you what happened when we get her to the vets!" The red-head placated hurriedly, "Please, just-just drive us there!" He pleaded.

Sending the injured, and probably fatally wounded, dog a sad, horrified glance, she conceded. Pulling the keys from her pocket, the woman moved with haste as she locked the front door to her house and got into her truck. She'd have to thank John again for fixing it.

Ryan, jittery from the adrenalin coursing through his system, jerkily pulled the seatbelt across his torso.

They remained in a tense silence while she carefully, but speedily drove down the massive hill her property was perched on, that is, until she finally managed to form words through the complete and utter incomprehension and anger that filled her over the poor creatures dying in the back of her truck.

"Okay, you. Explain. _Now._"

The man sighed and let his head drop into his blood smeared hands.

"I don't know where to start…"

"Start with why you shot a pregnantanimal."

A shaky breath left him.

"We had just finished laying the traps when we found their den…" he rubbed tiredly at his eyes, "We were just checking out the area when she and another attacked us, Quint shot the male but she got her teeth into Kyle's arm and I-I panicked and I _tried_ to aim for her leg but Kyle was screaming and there was blood everywhere and-I just-" he broke off and ground his knuckles into his eyelids. "I-I've never even shot a living thing before! I was just a technician on the defense grid for two years! I didn't even see combat! I just-I don't-it was an accident-"he broke off, his shaky breathing becoming stuttered and shallow.

Gabby eyed him speculatively for a moment before sighing heavily. It seemed that in a moment of panic he had made a mistake, and he truthfully seemed to be remorseful over the injury, and most likely death, of the dog and her unborn pups. If she didn't calm him down, it looked as if he might have a panic attack.

"_Good thing he didn't see any action then, he wouldn't have lasted long."_

Reaching over, she opened the glove-box and pulled the wipes free, setting them in his free hand, which sat limply at his side while he buried his face in the other.

"Clean yourself up," she spoke softly, "If we get there soon enough and the pups are far enough along, they may be saved."

"I really hope so." He whispered bleakly, scrubbing at the dried blood on his freckled hands with dull but misty eyes.

They didn't speak for the rest of the ride.

o**OO**o

"C'mon down to _Red Belly Black_ for a drink and some tucker with me and the family!"

John looked up from pulling the security screen down over the windows at the invitation.

Hannah, Rick's daughter, was very shy and uncertain around him at first, never straying far from her father as he did work in the books and dealt with customers for the first hour of her visit. Rick did try to get the child to warm up to him, but it did little good. The child shot curious but wary glances when she thought he was not looking, remaining seated in the stool and drawing in a spare notebook.

That lasted until Rick was forced to leave the child and do some work in the back room with the table saw, John was still not allowed to use one, and seeing as how she was forbidden from entering the workroom the child had little choice but to remain alone in his presence. For the most part, John allowed her small mercies and did not approach her. He could understand why the small girl was uncomfortable around his person, the scars were frightening enough, let alone the seven feet of muscle that he was comprised of.

At any rate, he had merely been moving some of the heavier items around and making space for new pieces of furniture or sculptures when his sensitive hearing was left reeling as the child screeched and screeched and _screeched_.

Spartan instincts slamming into place, he had bolted towards the terrified sound, vaulting over a table and landing in a ready-to-defend stance only to find the child scrambling onto the counter and trying to get away from a little brown ball of fuzz.

Apparently, Hannah was utterly terrified of mice.

After he had pushed past his amusement, caught the mouse and set it free, Hannah quickly proclaimed him her BFF and hero, forgetting any and all of her previous apprehension and giving him a hug.

Rick, not hearing any of her screams over the sounds of the table saw, had laughed until he cried when John asked him what BFF stood for.

He was now _Best Friends Forever_ with a child of seven.

"You don't mind?" He questioned cautiously, flicking the lock into place.

Rick snorted and Hannah looked positively scandalized.

"If I didn't mean it I wouldn't have invited you."

"You have to come and meet Moma and Cassy!" The child said with enthusiasm, bouncing in her seat.

A smirk pulled at Ricks lips, "Yeah, Mr. BFF, there's no getting out of it now." He laughed openly when his jibe caused a warning frown to be sent his way. Though there was no real anger behind it, mostly embarrassment.

"Very well, I'll join you." He agreed, much to the delight of Hannah.

The child began futilely pushing Rick towards the front door, grunting and huffing with the effort while the man grinned mischievously and purposely slowed his steps. When the child whined and stomped her foot in irritation he laughed playfully before picking Hannah up and following John out the door.

"What exactly is _Red Belly Blacks_?"

Ricks' eyes were still full of laughter from the afternoon's events, the smile never quite leaving his face.

"It's a bar and grill joint, best place in town to go for a drink and meal."

Hannah, gripping the collar Rick's shirt, bounced in her father's arms. Green eyes alight with excitement.

"They have a playroom with games and toys and free juice! Oh oh oh! And they have this big jungle-gym with monkey bars and a slide with racing stripes on it and…"

Why did every child he knew have a motor-mouth?

o**OO**o

"Frannie!"

At Gabby's cry, the veterinary assistant behind the counter jumped and dropped the clipboard he was scribbling on. The poor man seemed very flustered before he realized the cage she and Ryan were carrying had blood steadily dripping from it. Creating a vivid red puddle on the lavender colored floor.

The assistant pressed a small button and murmured something into a speaker before making his way over to the cage and peeking under the blanket.

A muttered oath left him and without further ado he ordered the two too bring the cage into the examination room.

"Doctor Cooper!"

Seconds after the call, Francis Cooper strode into the room, her white coat flaring as she saw the seriousness of the situation and surged forward.

"Oh dear me, what have you brought in for me today, Gabby?"

Stepping clear of the table, Gabby made room for the woman to do her job."This is one of the wild dogs roaming about, she's was shot by one of the hunting party sent after them."

Ryan backed away from the table and flattened himself against the wall, watching the scene unfolding before him with nervous eyes.

"Poor dear is very far along into her pregnancy too…"

From there, Frannie began talking technical and medical jargon to the assistant that flew straight over Gabby's head.

The veterinarian asked a few questions as the professionals carefully moved the dog from the cage, one softly caressing her head when she whined pitifully.

The blonds' stomach churned as the injury was now in clear view. It looked as if the bullet had gone through her chest cavity, her golden and brown fur matted with blood and gore. How she was still alive in Gabby's opinion was a miracle in itself.

"_Well, mothers can do almost anything when their child is in danger."_

"What's the outlook for her and the pups, Frannie?" Gabby asked softly, acutely aware of the brown eyes of the red-head staring at her with a desperate intensity.

Frannie eyed the dog being wheeled into the operation room as she shucked out of her coat and scrubbed her arms and hands clean in the provided sink.

"The mother won't survive, she's barely alive as it is. Even without opening her up I can tell the damage is very extensive. The pups are another story." The surgical gloves snapped against her skin as she pulled them on, her voice sympathetic, "If she's carried them for more than forty days, they have a chance of surviving the cesarean with intensive care. At the moment, I can't tell you more." Nodding apologetically, Frannie elbowed the door to the surgery open and disappeared inside.

Blowing out a sigh, Gabby went to the sink and washed her hands. Though there was no blood on her hands, they still felt unclean and she took comfort in the familiar action.

Hazel eyes swept over the cage, the metal coated in blood, before landing on the very pale figure of Ryan. His face blank and his eyes dull.

After a moment, a nurse came into the room, and seeing the state the man was in, she gently guided them from the room and into the waiting area.

"The operation will take a short while, have a seat and I'll bring some coffee out…" the Asian woman's soft, brown eyes narrowed at the blood-stained shirt the red-head wore, "…I'll see if I can find a spare shirt too."

Gabby thanked her as she smiled understandingly before taking off and completing her self-assigned tasks.

"_This day could have gone better."_

Letting her head thump against the wall, she closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

A drink would be good right about now.

Minutes went by in silence, neither person quite up to talking. The nurse came by and offered a clean shirt to Ryan and placed two steaming mugs of coffee on the table. Ryan moved mechanically as he removed the stained shirt and pulled the fresh one on.

They sipped at their coffee and let the quiet envelope them once more.

Twenty minutes went by until Gabby spoke.

"How badly was Kyle hurt?"

The man seated next to her jumped at the sound of her voice. Visibly shaking himself, he ran a hand through his short, fiery hair.

"His arm was torn up pretty bad, I don't think the dog got any arteries though, there wasn't enough blood-"he broke off, the words catching in his mouth and guilt flooded his eyes.

Sighing, she fingered the rim of her mug. "You reacted in violent situation and made an…error in judgment. There is nothing that you can do now but live with the consequences."

Head falling forward, he made a perfect picture of defeat and regret.

"I am sorry about all of this…the dog and my friends, I mean, _our_ behavior from earlier."

Surprised, she blinked a few times to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

"It was rude and rather…well,"

"Vulgar?" she supplied with a light smirk, chuckling when he laughed once and nodded.

"That's one way to put it. We were out of line and depending on what kind of painkillers they give Kyle, you might get an apology from him too."

"Thanks for apologizing, but I may have to do the same later if Quint says another one of those pick up lines."

Auburn brows raised, Ryan's eyes became animated as he asked why she would have to do that.

"'Cause if he does, I will kick him in the balls."

That made him laugh.

"He does have that effect on most women," He spoke through his chuckles. "And he's been of the receiving end of more than a few slaps to the face."

"I think that I will get more satisfaction aiming for his crotch." This was said with a mock dreamy sigh.

"I hope you aren't wearing steel-toed boots then, his mother wants grandkids one day."

"I promise nothing."

It was at this point that Frannie emerged from the door, her scrubs smeared with a small amount of blood. The slight grin on Ryan's dropped.

"How'd it go?" Gabby asked, setting her mug on the magazine covered coffee table.

"There was internal hemorrhaging and extensive damage to one of her lungs and spine, we had to anesthetize her." They were both expecting that outcome, but she still felt sad that the canine hadn't survived. "We were able to successfully remove the pups however, and seeing how they were close to being born they all have a fifty-fifty chance of survival."

Ryan almost deflated with relief. Frannie quirked her lips up at the reaction.

"They will need weeks of specialized care, and we will need to run several tests, but if they pass they will all be available for adoption." A satisfied smile graced her face, "If you come by in a week you can see how they are doing for yourself."

"Thanks, Frannie, how much will this cost?" Gabby mentally winced, vet bills were usually rather hefty. Frannie gave her a discount when she came out for the yearly check up of all of the horses, but otherwise…

The veterinarian waved a hand through the air dismissively, "The council called up and mentioned that I would be getting some wild ones in soon, they'll pick up the bill."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll pester them until they do."

With that she left them to their own business.

"That's a better end to a bad day."

Ryan remained quiet, the color finally returning to his freckled face.

"C'mon, you can by us a drink at the bar."

"Huh?" The confusion on his face made her chuckle.

"I'm cashing in on that apology, and I think that we could both use a drink."

Relenting, he stood and offered his hand to her. The pair made their way to the entrance, Ryan dropping his old, bloodied shirt in the bin on the way.

o**OO**o

The bar didn't have many patrons at his time in the afternoon during the middle of the week. The few already there were scattered about, leaving plenty of seats and booths free.

Gabby told Ryan her preferred drink before picking a booth and taking a seat.

The woman didn't drink often and when she did, she never drank much, having already discovered that hangovers were horrid to deal with during her year in University. Ah, the opportunities that came with moving away in order to go study.

In quick order, a light beer was set before her as Ryan took a seat on the opposite side of the booth, his own drink in hand.

"Cheers." The necks of the bottles clinked and both took a long draught of the bitter drinks.

They chattered about a small number of things, mostly about Quints' exploits and the various times he had left a conversation with female company with a red handprint on his face. By the time their drinks were gone both were laughing at the lessons Quint had failed to learn.

Despite her previous encounter with Ryan this morning, she found herself mildly enjoying his company. He proved to be a decent conversation partner and was quick to make a joke if the situation called for it.

They were working on their second round when Gabby recalled the whole damn reason why she had to come down into town in the first place.

"Shouldn't you head over to the hospital and check up on Kyle?" She spoke over the chatter that filled the slightly more crowded bar.

"Nah, he was whining like a bitch over it, but he's fine."

"Sure, Mr. Psychic."

He smirked and tapped his pocket, "Quint called when you went to the ladies room, Kyle's got twenty-seven stitches and some fancy painkillers. Blood test came back negative for anything asides elevated cholesterol levels," he snorted and rolled his eyes, "He'll be fine."

Gabby snickered, "Good for him then."

"I suppose…" he trailed off, eyes focusing on something behind the woman, "Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear."

Following his line of sight, Gabby felt annoyance collect in her gut at the sight of Ryan's two friends at the bar.

"I hope that you spoke to them about their behavior." He winced at the edge in her voice, clearly uncomfortable.

"I did, they mostly ignored what I said and well…"

"Well?" she hedged as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"We called him a pussy and told him to hand over his Man-Card."

Barely biting back her disgust, the woman turned in her seat and tried to refrain from giving Quint a scathing glare. How could he speak in that manner to a person he considered a friend? Slightly behind his person, Kyle stood. A sling held his injured arm to his chest, his free hand held what looked like a glass of brandy or scotch. It appeared as if he had already taken a large gulp.

Something at the back of her mind nudged its way to the forefront as she steadily watched the injured man take another mouthful. There was something she should be remembering.

Before she could speak Quint broke in again, leaning against the edge of the booth on Ryan's side.

"So what happened to the bitch?"

Ryan set his drink down and didn't meet anyone's eyes. "…She had to be put down."

Kyle grunted in a non-committal manner, swaying slightly, as Quint grinned roguishly.

"I'll drink to that." He took a gulp of whatever he was drinking; laughing at the dirty look the woman sent him. "Aw, turn the frown upside down, or better yet, put that mouth to use and go _down._"

"_The nerve of-"_

Drink forgotten, Gabby sat there and fumed, ready to tell him where he could stick his attitude when surprisingly, Ryan came to her defense.

"Quint, man, you can't speak to her like that."

Though she was still furious, she managed a small smile of gratitude for the red-head.

"Pah, where's your manhood gone and died!"

"This doesn't have anything to do with-ugh, you can't talk to people, women, _her_, like this Quint! It's just wrong."

"Wrong? I'm just telling the woman her place, quit your bitching." He said dismissively, ignoring Ryan's protests.

But the issue was far from dismissed.

"My place?" She growled, standing up and glaring up at the sneering man, white-hot fury lancing through her body, "_My place? _That is it! You can't treat me like this! You can't treat anyone like this! He-"she flung her hand in Ryan's direction, "-is supposed to be your friend, you can't speak to him, or me, in this manner! It's degrading and demeaning on so many levels."

They had drawn the attention of a number of people by now, some looking awkward and others watching with obvious curiosity or concern. One or two of the patrons knew the woman, but knew that she wrestled with beasts over half a tone on daily basis and hung back, knowing she would want to handle this herself unless things turned in a violent direction.

"Perhaps the canine isn't the only rabid bitch that needs to be put down." He eyed her with a superior sneer as she drew back and the angry flush on her cheeks became more prominent.

Though she was metaphorically foaming at the mouth, Gabby finally snapped.

"That is-that. Is. _It_. I don't have to deal with this, or you, you arrogant, sexist, egotistical prick! Get over yourself, grow up and ditch this cave-man attitude." Standing, she pushed away from the booth and made for the exit with angry, jerky strides.

"Quint! Don't!"

Ryan's cry came seconds too late. A heavy hand landed on her bicep and gripped it in a tight vice.

As the red-head scrambled from the booth and several other patrons jerked at the violent turn the argument had taken, Gabby reacted how her Mother taught her too when being man-handled.

"Now listen here you little bi_iiyagh_!"

Suddenly, Quint wasn't so arrogant.

Perhaps it was the foot Gabby had launched into his crotch; perhaps it was a sudden bout of the flu, _perhaps_ he had suddenly remembered walking in on his parents doing the deed as a child. Whatever it was, the array of colors that flooded Quints face as he folded in on himself and held his damaged groin ranged from white to red to green.

"Do _not_ touch me." Gabby warned, crossing her arms over her chest and sending a scathing glare his way. Hazel eyes alight with an intense look of loathing, the warning there clear. Taking two large steps back to get away from the man, taking a small amount of pleasure in his obvious discomfort.

"Oi!" Kyle took several steps forward so that he was only inches away from her.

Though the familiar chill of fear and adrenaline ran like ice through her veins for a moment, Gabby took in the fact that the man's breathing was labored and he swayed on the spot.

Then it clicked.

"You shouldn't be drinking after all the drugs they gave you." She said reproachfully, eyeing the way his face turned an alarming shade of green and he wavered.

Quint hobbled closer and made to reach for her when she picked up an empty pitcher on a table and shoved it into the ill mans arms.

The people on staff were lucky that she had when not a second later he was kneeling on the floor and retching into the jug.

"Good lord you are both idiots." She muttered, raising an eyebrow as Quint wheezed and doubled over again, his attempt to reach her failing as he succumbed to the aftermath of her defensive assault.

"Huuurg!" she spared the ill man a appalled glance before turning her attention to Quint, taking note of the fact that Ryan was watching the whole scene nervously in the background.

"You-you fucking whore!"

There were a number of gasps at Quints' rather squeaky cry.

His breathing was still labored as he stood and jabbed a finger at her. Gabby refused to allow that comment to affect her, but his constant degradation had worn her thin and she reared back as if he had slapped her.

Judging by the hand he pulled back he intended to make that a reality.

Several people shouted and leapt forwards, ready to take action, but none were there faster than the giant of a man that had been watching the whole thing from the shadows with intense, dark and _angry _eyes.

Quint was on his knees with his arms twisted behind his back before anyone could react.

It was with no small amount of relief that Gabby relaxed from her defensive posture when the familiar figure of John was put between her and Quint.

"What the Hell!" Quint yelled.

Gabby could not see John's face, as his back was to her, but she could feel the sheer strength and power that he projected.

Kyle staggered to his feet, oblivious to the tension as he groaned, clutching his stomach.

"Do us all a favor and back down, you bloody fool."

A voice that she did not recognize spoke from beside her, it was unmistakably masculine, a smooth tenor tapered with a thick Australian accent.

A burly man sidled up beside her, speckles of grey hair lined his temples and he moved with a slight, but noticeable limp.

"You must be Gabby?" At her nod, he introduced himself with a slight grin, "Name's Rick, it's a pleasure…well, strewth, it was almost a pleasure."

Despite the anger that raged through her, the woman offered him a tight smile at the attempted humor. Too distracted to truly offer the man the kind smile she wanted too.

"Likewise, though I wish the circumstances were different."

The man shook his head with dismay as he watched John release the violent man and stand by the woman's other side, though he still stood slightly before her. Ryan's eyes remained fixated on the formidable man that stood a good foot and a half taller than she as he roughly pulled the man to his feet, keeping a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Hwhoooorgh!"

Everyone on the bar winced as Ryan keeled over and hurled at Quint's feet, splattering his shoes with the contents of his stomach.

"Are you alright?" A gentle hand settled on her tense shoulder.

She repressed a shiver when the impossibly deep voice rumbled from beside her, the John's warm breath ghosting through her hair as he leaned closer for the illusion of privacy. Concern softening his sharp features.

Hazel eyes hardened a slightly as she glared at the source of her ire.

"No, not really."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Several pairs of eyes glared at Quint with disapproval. Gabby herself seriously wondered if he was just _that_ stupid.

"Someone who will break you unless you leave. _Now._" His voice rumbled like thunder, deep and dangerous.

It was like a heavenly chorus in her mind. A thick, gravelly, deep baritone chorus, but a chorus none-the-less.

"Bloody Hell…" Ryan muttered, pushing Quint to the exit and heaving the other man to his feet, pushing him to that Quint had no choice but to steady him. "I really am so-"

She held up her hand for him to stop.

"Don't. Don't apologize for their idiocy again when it's meaningless. I appreciate your efforts, but you need to keep growing that spine of yours and stand up to them." Though the words were harsh, she knew that he needed to hear this. He had made progress already, standing up for her moments ago, but he needed improvement. A lot of improvement.

Ryan winced, but seemed to understand what she was trying to say. "Take care, I'll…deal with these two." He waved weakly, giving the large man beside her a parting glance before grabbing the arms of his "friends" and marching them from the bar, despite Quints' protests. Two of the larger men who wore black shirts lines with red trimmings, signifying that they worked at _Red Belly Blacks,_ helped Ryan pull the livid man from the bar when he resisted.

John's hand settled around her shoulders this time, "I think it would be best if we left."

"That would be a smart idea, I'll see you Friday morning, John mate. Gabby…nice kick." Gabby snorted softly while John tipped his head in wordless acknowledgment.

With that, the man steered from the pub, ignoring the many eyes that followed them. She was distantly aware of John waving briefly to a small group of people as he led her outside and into the cool air.

"Are you hurt?"

Blowing out a breath, Gabby felt comfort in his concern and kindness. "Just my pride, and knee."

He smirked briefly, but remained quiet, waiting for her to continue, seemingly sensing that the woman was in need of a good rant.

When his thumbs began slowly moving up and down in soothing movements it all came spilling out in a torrent of hurt and frustration. The day's events finally collapsing the shield she had erected and letting loose a wave of chaos and distress.

"Everything they said this morning, their behavior, their gross bloody jokes and pick-up lines, was just so demeaning and hurtful! And they just laughed, _they laughed_ at how upset their behavior made me!" her hands made wild gestures, but his hands never stopped their calming motions.

"Then they bring this poor, pregnant dog that they shot to me and run off to the hospital while Ryan is saying sorry and nearly having a breakdown in my truck, and then the dog had to be put down and he was all upset so went for a drink only for those two pricks to show up and _start all over again_ with the demeaning comments and-and-argh!" she broke off with a frustrated growl, almost animalistic in nature, trying to breath in more air yet feeling no relief. A burning sensation rose in her eyes and she blew out a broken sigh.

"I hate it when people treat me like this, like I'm a weak, little female that will submit and let people walk all over me."

It was more than the day's events she was going on about now, but at the moment, she didn't really give a damn.

She focused on fighting back the pressure growing in her chest and behind her eyes, clawing and howling to be let out, but before she could truly have a meltdown of epic proportions, Gabby was surrounded by warmth. A gentle warmth that made her feel safe and secure.

Arms of powerful muscle circled her torso and held her with gentle care, they pulled her close so that she was completely swallowed by the calm and strong presence that simply was John. Her arms were slightly squashed between their chests, but the sheer _warmth_ eased all of her discomfort.

"Just breathe," Her whole body vibrated as he spoke, the rumbling oddly comforting, "I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe."

Though it was difficult, Gabby took a deep, shuddering breath and let it sit before slowly letting it out. Imaging all of the exhausting emotions that were clawing at her from inside the tight little ball she had tried to squish them into leaving her with the exhalation.

Though her eyes were firmly squeezed shut and her face buried in a hard chest, the woman knew that the soothing touch on her back was that of John's thumbs once again massaging her tense muscles to calm her.

She concentrated on just breathing for the moment, listening to the rhythmic thumping of the man's heart. Willing her heart to mime the calm, even tempo of his. The day, hell, the week hadn't been that great, and all of the negative emotions had just kept piling up until the dam broke.

There was a slight pressure by her waist, and then the jingling of keys broke the quiet.

"Come, I'll take you home."

Gabby allowed herself to be lead to her truck, slumping tiredly into the passenger seat when John unlocked her truck and opened the door.

"What about your truck?"

Warm, brown eyes watched her with a soft, kind emotion.

"It will still be here tomorrow."

The truck growled to life and they were off.

o**O**oo**O**o

_First off, my mother has had some very serious health issues that left her out of commission and I had to step up and care for my younger brothers while she was down and out for a while. Some drugs the Doc gave her seem to be helping though, so hopefully things will get better._

_Secondly, said mother borrowed my laptop and saw my search history and discovered that I frequent FanFiction net, and she also expressed her belief that being an author on this site could damage any future chances of publishing my own original novels (which I my goal after University). I would like your opinions on this issue, as it had been nagging at me for the last two weeks. PM me, vote in the poll or just add it in a review. Personally, I think this is all great experience and provides fantastic feedback and learning opportunities._

_And thirdly, this chapter was a bitch to write. I had about four different versions half-typed before I settled on this one. Still not %100 sure about this though. _

_Finally, things seem to be settling down, so hopefully I'll be able to stick to a regular writing schedule._

_On the plus side, in 5 days I'll be nineteen! Gosh, I feel old already!_

_Much love to my Beta reader for this chapter, Corselli!_

_Thoughts and opinions are appreciated!_

_Thank you kindly,_

_Razz_


	17. Special Interlude

_Written for shits and giggles, I couldn't fit it in the story, so it's just a one-shot…and a look into the future!1!_

_Also, this is unbeta-ed, so if there are any mistakes let me know!_

o**OO**o

John hid a smirk when Gabby's foot began to tap irritably against the floor, the telltale twitch in her eyebrow showing just how badly she wanted to tell the teller to hurry up. Though, he thought with a slight frown, the woman that was _supposed_ to be helping Gabby replace her bank card seemed to be more interested in going through mindless paperwork, which after briefly glancing over, he could tell that it had little to no relevance to the current situation.

He found his own irritation stemming from the way she typed with those ridiculously long, red nails; he grimaced at the click-clacking sound they made. Why she only used two fingers to type was a mystery, using all her fingers and thumbs would improve her productivity by a great margin.

Gabby slipped the last pile of paperwork under the protective screen, glancing at her watch as she did so. A sigh left her.

"I'll be here for a while yet, I think, you should go ahead in case this takes too much longer, I don't want Julie to freak out when we're not there to pick her up from class."

She scowled as another document was pushed towards her.

"Very well, I will see you soon then."

He pressed a light kiss to her temple, staying just long enough to inhale the light flowery scent of her shampoo, before taking his leave. The smile she gave him was soft and sweet as she leaned into him briefly.

It took barely five minutes for his long legs to carry him to the small dance studio in which Julie was taking her classes. Normally, one of her parents would pick her up, but as they, and the rest of her family, we're currently doing the monument out task of sheering all of the sheep the family owned, Rangi had asked Gabby and he to pick up his niece and drop her home.

Gabby didn't mind, and since he got to spend the day with her, John sure as hell didn't mind either.

He eyed the sign briefly before walking through the door.

He had no idea what he was walking in too.

Oooo

It was with a spring in her step that Gabby finally, _finally_, walked away from the bank. Smiling, she made her way to Lacey's dance studio. A quick check of the time had her sighing in quiet relief. There were still a few minutes before Julie's class was scheduled to finish.

She pushed open the door-

-and slapped a hand over her mouth.

Despite her efforts to hide the hysterical laughter she was suddenly consumed by, muffled snorts and snickers made their way across the room, drawing her Spartans attention towards her person.

"Darling, you have a _remarkable_ figure, why haven't you come by before?"

The flamboyantly dressed instructor tittered while prancing around the man, gushing over the definition in his muscles yet how he still maintained an athletic, lithe body, cutting an 'absolutely divine figure, creating the living the embodiment of power and grace'.

Gabby preferred just calling him tall, built and damn sexy.

"You simply must join in on our production!" The tiny woman clapped her hands together, oblivious to the pained sigh John let loose, and adjusted the leafy collar of the costume she had _somehow _gotten him into.

"Yes yes yes, Mr. John! We need someone to be King of the Forest for the play!"

Gabby smirked and bit her knuckle to stifle the giggles threatening to dissolve her into a fit of laughter.

Julie, dressed in her fairy costume, jumped up and down in ecstatic excitement. The delighted smile on her face as she held up the crown for him to take was explanation enough as to _who_ exactly convinced him to don his current outfit.

She lost it and clutched her belly as the laughter shook her until her ribs ached and the tears of mirth fell from her eyes. Falling back against the wall, she slid until she hit the floor, unable to stand.

An evil look was sent her way before he relented to the small child and allowed her to place the crown upon his head.

The instructor sighed dramatically, a dreamy look entering her soft green eyes, which were practically surrounded by glittery blue eye-shadow.

"It was meant to be, this role it simply destined for you to play!" Her hands rose and she gestured grandly to the rest of the class, the girls giggling and gathering around the flustered man. "Practice is on Thursday afternoons and Saturday mornings, I will have Andrea begin a proper costume for you immediately!"

With a flourish, the instructor disappeared, waving to some of the amused looking parents waiting to pick up their own children.

"This will be soooo amazing! Thank-you thank-you thank-you, Johnny!" Julie squealed, gripping his hand and attempting to shake it.

"Do I get a say in this?" he murmured to her quietly.

The emphatic shaking of her head was a decisive no.

Julie stuck out her bottom lip and batted her eye lashes, "Please Mr. John? This is my first show! We need a King for the fairy kingdom!"

Understanding filled her, Julie was playing him.

"_Cheeky girl," _she thought with another smirk.

It also explained how John was cornered into putting the green costume and wings on.

John sighed heavily, falling into her trap. Though by the glint in his eyes he knew that she was playing him as the child pouted in a _very_ practiced manner.

"_Fine_."

Several of the girls squealed in joy before clustering together and whispering in a conspiring manner.

Seconds later, the girls were all laughing and skipping in a circle around the man, waving their glittery ribbon wands and singing "Long live the King John!" repeatedly.

A light dusting of red appeared on his cheeks as they giggled before prancing off towards their laughing parents.

With a sigh, he made his way over to her, an exuberant Julie flitting around him and chattering excitedly.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Since she had long ago collapsed on the floor, clutching her middle, the answer was obvious.

Rolling his eyes, but smirking, he reached down and hauled her to her feet.

Still snickering, she reached around him and ran her fingers over one of the _glittery_ wings strapped to his broad back.

"You're just so pretty in your leotard and wings, my _darling_."

He growled lowly, sending her into another round of giggles.

"But you make pretty so _manly_."

Julie skipped to her side and gave her a hug, "Hi, Aunty gabby!"

"Hey, munchkin!" she leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "Go grab your things and we'll drop you home, okay?"

"Okay!" she ran off to gather her bag from her cubbyhole.

Turning back to John, she eyed the way the thin, green material clung to his form like a second skin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. He was probably very grateful for the fig leaves sewn into the crotch.

He was still glaring at her, she realized with yet another giggle. The leafy, _flowery _crown tilting ridiculously.

Standing on her toes, she leaned forward and ran her hands over his chest, linking her fingers behind his neck.

The embarrassment and mock-anger left as his brown eyes softened in that way that filled her heart with warmth and sent butterflies through her stomach.

"You've read Shakespeare, right?"

His hands came around her waist as he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss too her lips, mindful of the young audience on the other side of the room, which was currently giggling.

Raising a brow, he murmured an affirmative before pressing another kiss to her lips.

The giggles increased in volume.

Standing on her toes so that she could whisper in his ear, a wicked smile pulled her lips apart as she ran her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck.

"Well, to help your budding career in theater, I know a few _exercises_ we can do..."

"Such as?" A thrill went through her at the low growl.

"For example, we can go over some lines, watch some old plays or…" he smile turned devilish, "…make Shakespeare's beast with two backs."

It was a while before he was able to respond to that.

~O~

"I can't believe that he's doing this, I seriously can't _believe_ that he's doing this!"

Gabby laughed as Kirk shifted in his seat excitedly.

"It was all Julie, she's pretty crafty when she wants to be."

The woman waved at the rest of the child's family, seated in the rest of the row.

"Of that, I have no doubt, since she was able to get _John _of all people to do this." Rene said softly, prepping the video camera with deft hands.

While Gabby had promised not to film the show, Rene had made no such vow.

The lights dimmed and a hush came over the audience.

Identical smiles bloomed on Kirk's and Gabby's faces.

The music started, the curtains pulled apart.

The show began.

"_There once was a Kingdom of the Forest, ruled over by the Great King of the Fairies…"_

~O~

_This popped into my head after seeing The Game Plan. I hope you liked it! _

_Razz_


	18. Chapter 17

_OhmyGod, just Oh, My, GOD! The responses to last chapter and my questions were AMAZING! I was so overwhelmed by the reviews and all the messages you sent! I didn't reply to each one (there were __**over 50!**__) but just…just wow!_

_And thank you for all of the birthday wishes!_

_Beta-ed by Corselli and Illegitimate._

_Much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 17**

John's eyes frequently strayed from the road as he looked at the blonde woman seated in the passenger side of the truck. She was slumped in her seat with her head resting on the cool, clear material of the window. Hazel eyes stared morosely at the dark sky, made even darker by the thick, rolling clouds that had gathered over the valley in the last two hours, blocking out any chance of seeing the moon and the stars.

It was bleak to say the least.

Again, his eyes were drawn to the drained looking woman as she uttered a soft sigh.

He wanted to remain solely focused on the distress his friend was experiencing at the moment, but each time he recalled exactly what had made the woman to upset in the first place dark feelings slithered through his mind. Wrathful, furious, and vengeful feelings that took his considerable mental training to suppress. His hands clenched around the steering wheel.

When he had heard what was going on…when he had _seen_ the dangerous glint in that violent man's eyes and the menacing steps he had taken towards Gabby, John had been ready to throw his reservations to the wind and storm over there in a charge of Spartan fury. Only the nails Rick had dug into his arm and the warning he had hissed stopped John from bolting over there and ripping the man in half.

He should have felt ashamed at his behavior, at the panic in Ricks eyes as he stood stony-faced and made his way over to the confrontation.

"_Just wait, she seems to have this under control!"_ Rick had pleaded quietly, so quietly that only one with enhanced hearing would pick it up.

The rage and instincts that had bellowed, that had _screamed,_ at him to protect the woman were quelled slightly when Gabby spun and kicked the man in the groin. Ripping her arm free of his grasp as she did so.

Seeing that the man was subdued, John had hung back in the shadows and watched the three with severe attention. The rage was further cooled when it was obvious that the other man was violently ill, though he nearly snarled when he came within two feet over Gabby and she flinched, imperceptibly, but he had seen it.

Her shoulders were tense, her back stiff and though he couldn't see it, he knew that her hazel eyes were burning with her fury. Glowing with her own rage.

Whenthe bastard, the vile, cocky bastard had _dared_ to raise his hand to hit her, to _harm her_, John had finally snapped. He had called her vicious names, harmed her, _touched her_. He would not stand for it.

Rick seemed to understand something for he simply sighed deeply before moving in sync with John as he stalked over, standing guard by the woman as he disabled Quint with practiced ease.

He had wanted to do far, far worse to the man for what he had done to Gabby. It was a force of pure Spartan will that he kept his hands from exerting that much extra force. From twisting his arms until the bones twisted and broke and snapped. Still, he kept the man on his knees on the floor, wanting justice for what he had tried to do.

Then he had seen the look in Gabby's eyes.

All the rage just slipped away at the anger, the hurt, in the normally warm hazel orbs. The frail smile she gave Rick was nothing like the amused grins and gentle smiles he was used too.

Quint had no idea how lucky he had been.

John had managed to send a truly apologetic and grateful glance to Rick as he wandered back over to his brood, who had just emerged from the bathroom and were understandably confused.

He had felt the tense muscles of her shoulder beneath his hand as he had guided Gabby outside, away from all the probing eyes that stayed glued to the pair until they were out the door.

The woman had been trembling, her eyes shining with so much raw emotion that he just wanted to know how to make that pain go away, too understand _how_ to get her to smile again.

A simple question, a simple touch, had been enough to break the feeble defenses she had erected to keep herself in check, to hide the torrent of emotions waiting to be unleashed.

Seeing her like that, seeing her eyes mist and hearing the cracks in her voice, it broke him to witness her so.

Finally, when it seemed she was going to shatter, he remembered Kelly.

Holding her after that ill-fated mission, the mission that had destroyed a Covenant cruiser, but killed his best, and first, friend. Sam.

John had reached for her and pulled her close, holding her so that she would stay together and know that he had her. Murmured words of comfort came unthinkingly and he felt relief when her shoulders slumped and her heart slowed and steadied from its frantic rhythm. The shudders subsiding until the only thing keeping her standing was his support.

While she had seemed quite content to stay there, John could smell the rain readying to fall from the pregnant clouds.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, John eyed the dark sky. They were still ahead of the coming rain, for now.

A breeze, steadily growing stronger and faster, buffeted the truck and swept through the trees. The chill seeped into the cab and fogged up the windows. Gabby pulled away from the window and wrapped her tanned arms around her middle in an attempt to retain some warmth.

Unfortunately he did not have a jacket to give her this time.

He tried to turn the heat on, frowning in confusion when nothing happened.

"The AC doesn't work, hasn't for months."

John exhaled slowly, his frown deepening, though internally he was relieved to hear her speak, even if her voice had almost none of its usual calm and warmth. "You really need to replace this truck."

The woman laughed breathily, sounding tired but still slightly amused.

"I know, but I'm not exactly rolling in it."

"Rolling in what?" Though he was genuinely confused, he was glad to see her smile at his question.

"Money, John. It's a saying, if you have a lot of money, you're rolling in it, as in you have enough money to throw on the floor and roll around in."

"…who would want to do that?"

Her laugh came stronger this time, her tone lightening, "You'd be surprised."

"Since moving here, I've found that I am surprised quite often."

"Tamworth will do that to you, we're a quirky bunch."

"_It's not the town that keeps surprising me."_ He thought privately while taking notice of the red tinge her cheeks and nose has taken, the cold beginning to take its affect as the winds increased in strength.

"Will the horses need to be brought in?" He murmured quietly, taking note of the water droplets beginning to splatter against the windshield.

Gabby shifted slightly and focused her eyes on the rolling clouds, lips pursing in thought.

"No, it's only rain and cold, nothing too serious. There are shelters in all the paddocks that they can sleep in where it's dry."

She remained quiet after that for short moment. When she spoke again, her voice was still soft, but held some warmth too it, though it seemed fragile.

"I was supposed to thank you again for fixing my truck," A half-hearted smile tugged faintly at the corners of her mouth at the afterthought, "…and, thanks for stepping in back there, I just sort of froze when he-" she swallowed the rest of her speech, an angry look darkening her features as she roughly rubbed the reddened tip of her nose.

His jaw clenched briefly at the reminder of what than man had tried to do. What he _would_ have done had John not been there.

"I am very glad that I was there, if he had-if that _bastard _had hit you…" he growled, trailing off ominously, finally parking the car in front of the woman's house.

Gabby should have shied away from the thick growl, not smile sweetly and pat his hand. The severe frown on his face did little to scare the woman as she slipped from the truck.

"It's okay, you were there, and if he did manage to hit me, then I would have hit him back, or the other twenty people watching would have dog-piled him."

John worked through the first three replies he had to that as he followed the woman and unlocked her door. Barely noticing the rain that fell upon him.

"It is _not_ okay, he shouldn't have tried to hit you in the first place."

o**OO**o

Gabby followed the irate man with a faint smile upon her face. Though she was still rather troubled over the day's events and felt exhaustion starting to settle heavily on her shoulders, the woman couldn't help feel affection for John and the role of protector he was taking so seriously. He closed and locked the door behind her before continuing into the lounge room, muttering annoyances under his breath all the way, and setting about getting a fire going.

She was thankful that he had the mind to do so, her fingers were beginning to go numb from the chill and water, her hair and shirt were left slightly damp from the rain.

A minute shiver rippled through her body as she continued onto her bedroom and shut the door.

Stripping off her dirty, damp clothes, the woman pulled on warmer garments.

A soft _roof_ stole her attention away from laying her wet clothes out to dry.

Boomer uncurled from his sleeping spot on her bed, obviously having used the dog-door she had installed in the laundry door years ago to get inside.

Blue eyes sparkled in the dark as he practically leapt from the bed in his haste to reach her.

"Hey boy," she mumbled, kneeling down and running her hands over his ears. A soft whine emerged from his throat as she rested her forehead against the crown of his head. A weary expression overtaking her face and a heavy lump settling in her throat, and now matter how hard she tried, the constricting feeling would not leave.

"_Good grief, I am such a child."_

Quint's comments should not have affected her this much. They should not have left her feeling so stricken over his barbs and demeaning attitude. She should not be feeling a familiar tingle spike down her nose and that damnable moisture build up in her eyes.

A second whine, this one louder, broke the quiet that had previously only been broken her shaky breaths.

Startled, she drew away from the dog, squeezing her eyes shut as she did so to fight back at the moisture that continued to build despite her hasty measure.

Stomping down on the urge to give into the pressure, she forced the feelings aside and left the room. Boomer walked with his head lowered, never straying far from her side as the woman made her way into the only room with a warm, orange glow emanating from it.

The reflection of light on glass stopped her momentarily.

Stopping, Gabby felt the lump in her throat grow as her eyes landed on a picture of her mother and father. The air seized in her lungs and a strangled cry emerged from her quaking form.

Normally, she would merely smile at the photograph and keep on moving. Now though, now, her emotions were running wild, and seeing the reminder of her parents and what they had left behind, left for her to take care of, what she had almost been forced to give up, it tore at her fragile state and broke the final barrier.

The tears finally fell. They streamed down in hot trails, falling from her chin and splashing onto her shirt.

The image of her smiling parents, taken just days before their deaths, blurred as she reached out with a numb hand and traced their smiles, the other hand coming up to muffle the weak sobs.

Breathing became difficult as everything inside of her just collapsed and broke and _shattered_.

This shouldn't be happening. She does not cry like this. _This_ _shouldn't be happening._

Her knees buckled but they never hit the floor.

o**OO**o

John was nudging the fire with the iron poker, feeling the heat bring a warm flush to his face, when he heard Gabby's footsteps in the hallway halt. This in itself was not worrying, it was when he heard odd wet, muffled sounds that he became concerned.

He peered into the hallway and felt the worry _explode_ into full-blown panic. Later, this feeling would confuse him. Panic was foreign to him, but how else could he explain the way his heart burst into a frantic rhythm or how the robotic calm that usually overtook him in stressful situations fled the moment his eyes landed on the crumbling form of Gabby.

When he saw her legs shake and weaken, he had never moved so fast in his life.

o**OO**o

A weight, comforting and gentle, warm and strong, surrounded her. Encompassed her. Engulfed her.

She heard something rumble, a question full of frantic worry uttered in a deep voice that growled and vibrated with every syllable.

Gabby tried to stop her blubbering, she really did, but everything was just collapsing around her and the only thing keeping her grounded was the powerful arms that, for the second time that night, curled around her.

"What do you need me to do?"

The response was garbled even to her, but he seemed to understand her answer, for she was suddenly lifted into the air and being carried somewhere.

If she wasn't currently having an episode, Gabby would have felt her inner romantic swoon.

Heat buffeted against her exposed side as she was set on the couch, the cushion to her right dipping as John settled himself beside her, his arm staying on her quivering shoulders.

She buried her face in her hands and fell limply against the man seated next to her as the sobs tore through her body and the tears continued to fall at a rapid pace.

This was foolish and childish, crying over taunts and barbs like an emotional, hormone fueled teenager, the woman felt angry at herself or succumbing to the act.

Something sat by her other side, and a weight settled in her lap.

Removing her hands and roughly wiping at the wet trails on her face, hazel eyes met the upset baby blues of Boomer. He whined as she gave him a watery smile and affectionately ran her fingers through his short fur.

She exhaled brokenly and sniffed, feeling foolish now that the worst had passed.

"I-I'm sorry about that, I don't know what came over me…" she trailed off as John sighed softly, his eyes never wavering from their careful watch and his hand never stopping those soothing motions he seemed to be so good at.

"No apology is necessary…are you alright?"

Her hand came up and wiped at her cheek again and she held back a wince, her skin felt raw from the treatment it had received today.

"Better, I guess."

She sniffed again and her breath shuddered. The woman must have made quite the picture, face flushed and shiny from crying, eyes bloodshot and hair wet and plastered to her face. She huffed out a breath and pushed the blond locks away, only for several to fall back and stick to the damp skin.

Gabby sighed mentally and was about to leave for the bathroom when calloused fingers softly brushed the stray locks away, tucking them behind her ear before wiping away a stray tear.

"Someone once told me that talking helps. That it does, simply because it does."

That startled a bark of weak laughter from her. Boomers tail wagged twice at the sound.

"Quoting me now, are you?" Her voice rasped slightly, but her smile was a little more genuine as she met those concerned brown eyes. An amused smirk pulled at his lips, but otherwise he remained unmoved.

"You do deserve an explanation after all of _that,_" the receding flush on her cheeks bloomed anew at the embarrassment she felt, "I'm not really sure where to start though."

"Perhaps you could explain exactly what this _Quint_-" the name was growled lowly, darkly, "-character said that upset you so." It was more of a request than a question.

She chewed briefly on her lip before settling into a more comfortable position, which ended up bringing her closer to his side.

"Okay then, well, I don't know how much you got from my little "outburst" earlier but he basically just made _a_ _lot _of these very sexist remarks and tonight, _oh-ho_, tonight he made what he thought of women _very clear_." Huffing lightly, she felt a small frown dip her brows. "The fact that he enjoyed how angry it made me just made it worse, and after everything that happened this afternoon with the dog and then at the pub…well, I don't need to tell you how I felt after _that_."

Her throat worked as she swallowed audibly and fought down the hot anger that burned in her chest.

o**OO**o

John was silent as the woman ground her teeth and glared at nothing in particular, he assumed that she was thinking some of the more vulgar words he had heard her use on the rare occasion in relation to the bastard of a man he had the _pleasure _of disabling earlier.

The Dane in her lap shuffled until he was sprawled across both of their laps, his head resting on the mans thigh. Gabby was still burning holes in the wall so it was up too him to give the dog a curious look, as the woman barely even acknowledged Boomers movement.

Baby blues peered up at him innocently, his drool covered tongue lolling from his mouth, making John flinch slightly at the sight.

He scowled.

Brutes, Elites, a legion of Grunts, _Hell_, a Hunter pair, send them his way armed to the teeth with plasma weapons and he would remain stony faced and barely even blink, but the sight of that slimy, pink _tongue _had him recoiling. A tongue.

_A tongue._

Johnson would have had a field day with that.

"…shame I _wasn't_ wearing my steel-toed boots…"

He blinked at the growled comment, coming back to the current situation with a small start. Peering down at the woman, he was hard-pressed not to chuckle.

She no longer looked furious, or heartbroken.

She was _pouting_.

John tugged on a lock of hair lightly, smirking when the woman eyed the offending hand with a mild glare before smirking and batting the appendage away from her blond hair.

At least she wasn't crying anymore.

"A shame indeed," He agreed while lifting his arm away and stretching it over the back of her couch. Something odd rose in his chest at the action, at the loss of contact.

Puzzled, he glanced down at the woman nestled beside him as she grumbled obscene things about Quint and his ill friend. When she muttered "…what a bloody whacker, let him swim go at Bondi and get is dick munched on by a White-Pointer…" he raised a brow despite his confusion over this unsettling feeling.

John absentmindedly ran his free hand over the Danes head, much to Boomers enjoyment, as he attempted to understand this strange reaction.

Eventually, Gabby settled and calmed down, the anger that had been almost a constant presence in her person today finally leeching from her frame as she let a long breath out.

"Feel better?"

She smiled up at him, and despite the tear trails that stained her cheeks and the bloodshot eyes, he still felt himself mimic the action with sincerity.

"Much, but there is more to it…what happened a few minutes ago in the hall, that…um, needs a proper explanation and I'm too tired to open that can of worms right now, I'll tell you tomorrow...hmm, tomorrow…"

John admitted that he was rather curious about this "can of worms" but seeing the slump in her shoulders and the weariness in her eyes had him agreeing.

Gabby scrunched up her face at something.

"Ugh, we have to get up early tomorrow too," a sigh left her, "It will take us most of the day to herd the cattle up into the top paddock, and I don't want to be out there when it gets dark."

Ah, right. That had slipped his mind.

"How early?"

"I'd like to be on our way before six, the lower paddocks are massive and have little forest-y bits that the cows will hide in, rounding up the stragglers will eat up a few hours at least."

Brown eyes flicked briefly over to the clock mounted on the wall.

"It's not late," he frowned, "Have you eaten?"

It was barely past seven, the time in which both he and Gabby usually ate.

The rumble from her stomach was answer enough.

"Eat first, then sleep."

Gabby pushed Boomer until he relented with a whine and slipped from his seat. Standing, she brushed some stray fur from her clothes.

"Alright then, have you had dinner?"

He stood fluidly and ran a hand through his hair, distantly noting that the rain was coming down in a heavy downpour judging by what he could hear outside.

"Yes, I ate at _Red Belly Blacks_."

She smiled and licked her lips, "They have some great food, what did you have?"

It was difficult not to indulge her when she was smiling so easily after today's earlier events.

"The steak and mushroom stew pot," his smile stretched into an amused grin as she groaned when her stomach grumbled.

"Damn, soup in a can sounds so unappealing now," she bustled about in the kitchen, setting a fresh lamb shank down for Boomer, "Coffee or tea?"

A bowl was placed in the microwave and the kettle was set to boil. Tanned hands were already reaching for two mugs, pausing in their search as she peered at him for his answer.

"Coffee, please."

Leaning against the door frame, he waited quietly while Gabby made up two cups of coffee, hers decaf.

Once the drinks were made she brought him his coffee, leaving her own on the counter, and quirked her lips up in that gentle, but mischievous, smile of hers. He hiked an eyebrow up over the rim of his mug when she did not return to her own drink, but instead remained standing before him.

Laughing softly, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his middle, much to his surprise.

He had barely recovered from the sudden embrace, his free hand automatically coming around her, and therefore didn't formulate a response quick enough. He could feel her warm breath over his chest through the thin material of his shirt.

"I want thank you again for everything, today has been rough," her arms tightened briefly, "Things would have been a lot worse, had you not been here, or there, so…thank you, John."

"There is no need to thank me," he finally got out, recovering from the sudden intimate contact, "I would do far more, if it meant keeping you happy and safe."

When she moved back slightly and smiled at him, he saw such _warmth _in those hazel eyes, the flecks of blue brightening the dominant grey.

"You're a big sweet-heart, you know that right?"

A chuckle left him, "Don't tell anyone, it will ruin my scary guise."

Her laugh was bright and cheerful.

"I make no promises, surely Kirk deserves to know a little about his Spartan brother?"

As she stepped away to retrieve her dinner, stepping from his arm's embrace, that odd feeling returned, settling firmly in his chest.

As she smiled at him again, the feeling became a slight ache.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Good golly gosh, I love writing emotional stuff, I hope you liked the cuddles!_

_A 'whacker' is just a person who talks shit and in a dickhead in general, a 'white-pointer' is a great white shark. Bondi is a famous beach in New South Wales._

_And yes, it is a little shorter than my latest chapters, but this seemed to be a good place to stop, a chapter of just some Gabby and John fluff._

_Much love,_

_Razz_


	19. Chapter 18

_Thanks for the reviews, they inspire me! :D_

_Beta-ed by Corselli!_

_Much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 18**

Gabby grunted as she hauled herself out of bed, the chill of the early hour doing little to wake her. A tanned hand slapped the bedside table several times before finally landing on the alarm clock, stopping the infernal noise.  
Wiping the same hand down her face, Gabby shuffled into the bathroom.

Five o'clock in the morning was way too early to be up.

It took a hot shower and a cup of strong coffee for the woman to come to some form of alertness.

Cracking her back, she packed two lunches that wouldn't spoil and grabbed a handful of other snacks. As she was making her way outside, she passed the study.

Stopping, she chewed her lip in thought.

There was the possibility that there were still wild dogs roaming about, and the two killed during yesterday's debacle were only a portion of a pack, which could range from two to six dogs.

Sighing reluctantly, she stuffed everything into a small pack and flicked through her keys until she found the one

for the locked closet. 

The lock clicked open and she pulled the door open, revealing the hidden cache. 

Her mother's hunting rifle was mounted on the back wall of the special closet, the ammunition divided into two boxes. She eyed the long barreled gun with a look of trepidation, she had never used it after the initial time in which her mother taught her how to shoot the weapon. 

The blond would still take her stock whip, but it was much better to have the gun and not need it, than need it and not have it there. Taking the rifle down and grabbing a small box of ammo, she left the room and walked briskly outside. 

If worst came to worst, John would be able and capable of handling the gun. 

She could shoot, but no doubt the Spartan was far better. 

Boomer barked and bounced around excitedly as the woman unlocked the barn and moved inside. He was a morning dog. Brat. 

Smiling she ruffled his fur as she passed by, the grey fur soft beneath her work worn hands. 

Setting her load down on a table, being careful with the powerful weapon, the woman set about gathering the required tack and gear that she would need for the horses. 

Once everything was ready, Gabby picked up the two lead ropes and jogged outside. 

The frosted over grass crunched beneath her boots as chilled air filled her lungs and swept the last traces of sleep away. Hazel eyes took in the mountains in the distance, thick fog swirled around the peaks and drifted lazily towards the sky and beams of light broke through the scattered clouds as the sun ascended higher. 

Thunder was her perfect horse for today's activities; the Stock Horse was made for this kind of work. Built, trained and bred for traversing unexpected terrain and herding cattle, plus and he had the stamina for a long, hard days work. 

Humming thoughtfully, she eyed the other horses that might suit John. Considering how long they would be using the horses, she wanted one that would be able to take the man's weight but was still suitable for working in a noisy environment with cattle and had enough endurance for the days work. Jackson, while impressive and large enough to bear the man, was not the best animal for rounding up cattle. He was more of a show horse than a working horse. 

A grin lit her face as her eyes landed on the perfect solution. 

o**OO**o 

John felt excitement brew in his chest at today's prospects as he made his way down Gabby's driveway. 

Today sounded like something that would test him. 

From what Gabby had told him, there were easily a few hundred bovines that needed to be rounded up and herded into the paddocks. He would need to be at the top of his game in order to keep track of all the creatures and keep an eye out for stragglers. 

And then there was also the possibility of coming across more of those feral dogs. 

He patted the standard issue magnum strapped to his thigh and adjusted the six inch long army knife strapped to his other. 

He was prepared. 

A smile automatically curved his scarred lips when he saw Gabby saddling up two horses. That unsettling feeling he experienced last night, he still hadn't figured out what it was, returned and changed. Something lightened at the sight of her, and something warm grew. It was odd how his heart began to beat faster. 

"Morning, John." 

He returned the greeting and bent down in order to give Boomer a pat on the head as the Dane loped over and sat obediently by his feet. Woofing happily when the man scratched behind his ear. 

Brown eyes swept over the pale horse she was readying. 

She noticed his look. 

"This is Thunder, I'll be riding him today, you however…" she motioned at the second horse, which was a fair bit larger than hers and appeared to be a different breed entirely, "You'll be riding Major today." 

The horse lowered her head and sniffed at the hand he offered her. Gabby smiled in approval as he did what she had originally taught him to do when meeting Jackson for the first time. 

A low rumble echoed in the large animals chest as she apparently liked what she smelt. The brown fur was coarse but soft beneath his fingers as he ran a hand over her nose gently, the white stripe running down the centre of her face standing out starkly from the dark brown fur that covered the rest of her muscled but lean body. 

"Finish saddling her up while I grab a few things, you remember how to right?" 

He simply gave her the what-do-you-think? raised brow look. 

Chuckling, she held her hands up in mock surrender before disappearing back inside the barn. 

Boomer trotted over and plopped down in a patch of sunlight while the man hefted the leather gear onto Major's back, the blanket already in place. His hands quickly adjusted the straps and cinched buckles. 

Patting the thick neck gently, John pulled the simple head wear off of her face before rubbing his fingers over her ears as he slipped the riding bridle over her head, her mouth obediently opening for the bit. 

A chuckle left him as the horse butted her nose against his shoulder. 

He liked animals. They were silent, most of the time, and he genuinely enjoyed caring for them. Talking to them was…cathartic. Animals didn't judge, they didn't care that he was an enhanced human that had taken thousands of lives, human, Covenant and Flood alike. They didn't care that he was physically and emotionally scarred. 

The light brown eyes of Major met his and a calmness washed over him. 

Yes, he liked living in farm country.  
"I take it that you like her?" 

A soft voice spoke from beside him, so lost was he in his thoughts that he did not notice Gabby's soft tread sneak

up on him. 

Peering down at her slightly smiling face, he felt a grin bloom. 

"I'll take that as a yes." She held something out for him, "Here, this is your lunch and a few snacks and water, there is also an old walkie-talkie in there paired with mine in-case we have to separate." She began tucking her own pack in one of the saddlebags, strapping a holster of some sort too the saddle-pack as well. "First aid kit, a map and some other things mother always insisted I bring with me on trips like this are in there too, oh-" a grin suddenly split her face as her eyes landed on something, "I found this hanging in the tack room!" 

He watched on curiously as Gabby practically danced over to a fence post, picking up a dark shape sitting next to her hat, slipping the headgear on so that the black material shaded her face from the morning sun. 

Jogging back over to stand before him, she presented him with a hat. 

It was similar to hers, only instead of black it was a tan color, with a braided strip of deep brown leather circling the base, the tails dangling from the back. Several silver bullets, hopefully without powder, were firmly braided into the leather. 

It smelt a bit musty as he took the hat from her and ran his fingers over the brim, it must have been left unused for some time. 

He had seen it before. 

"This was Franks, wasn't it?" 

John remembered the photo that Gabby had dropped of Frank and the black stallion. This had been the hat the

man had worn. 

She smiled nostalgically, tickling the leather tails as they dangled from the back, much like those on her hat. 

"Yeah, I bought it for him as a thank-you years ago after he helped me with all the farm stuff after my parents died,

I made this part myself," a tanned finger glided over the braided leather, a nail tapping one of the silver bullets, "He knew how much I loved it so he left it for me in his Will, it's been hanging on the wall in the tack room ever since." 

Hazel eyes had a slightly shy light to them as she peered up at him, "Do you like it?" 

Smiling, he set the hat upon his head, wiggling it about until it sat comfortably. 

"Very much so, thank you for the gift." 

His heart started beating faster once more when her eyes filled with pleasure at his words. 

o**OO**o 

Gabby watched on with curiosity as John and Major got used to each other, the Waler horse was a surprisingly fitting beast for John now that she really thought about it. Walers had been used as the main breed of horse for the Australian Calvary in the First and Second World Wars, they were required to carry heavy loads day after day over uneven terrain in a warzone. Loyal and protective, sure-footed and brave, fast and strong, these words were the core of who and what Major and John were. 

They were so alike, she thought with a snicker, that Gabby seriously thought they were a perfect couple.

Major was unusually large for a Waler, being sixteen and a half hands tall at the shoulder, and John was unusually large for a human, seven feet without the armor Spartans were noted for. 

The horse had been taken out on more than one Search and Rescue mission out in the mountains and bushland, she had carried her rider and a woman with a broken leg for hours non-stop at one point. Walers had been the backbone of the mounted forces in World War I, and Spartans had been the backbone in the far more recent war against the Covenant. 

Spartan and Waler had been what had pulled them through the bloodied fields and hauled their broken bodies until they won, until they prevailed. 

It was like finding a missing puzzle piece. 

They fit together perfectly. 

Hazel eyes had a merry light to them as she watched Major dance around in a circle and prance about happily, John had a smile on his face as he pulled gently on the horse's reins and nudged her into a straight line. 

o**OO**o 

Boomer danced and weaved in between the horses as they warmed up on the way over to Mary and Bob's. 

Thunder snorted heavily as the dog got a little too close, flicking his dark tail in an irritated manner when he paid little mind to the horses warning. 

A low whistle and a stern look got the dog to calm down, for a while. 

Major seemed eager to burn off some energy as well, she noted as the horse kept trying to move into a canter and John had to tug gently on the reins to steady the horse. 

It was then that she noticed the silver shape strapped to his leg. 

Her brows rose at the sight of the gun, eyes drifted in between John's and her own weapon tucked away in the holster secured to the saddle. It seemed that she was not the only one taking precautionary measures. 

As Thunder moved into a trot and sidled up beside the larger horse, she also spied the massive dagger strapped to his other thigh. 

"_Screw calling that a dagger, it's more like a short-sword."_ She thought sarcastically. 

"I see that you came prepared." 

Brown eyes shifted over and met hers before they swept over her own measures, taking in the rifle and whip with an appraising eye. 

"I see that you did as well, however suggest wearing the dagger on your hip instead of leaving it attached to your boot." 

An amused grin greeted her when she blinked in surprise, leaning forward and feeling the apparently noticeable lump on her ankle under her pants. Not that she was trying to hide it in the first place, but…wow. 

"I don't know why you are so surprised." 

She laughed at the gentle teasing, but did as he advised and unclipped the small hunting knife from its place on her boot and clipped it to her belt. 

"Satisfied?" 

Something in his eyes changed at her playful question, but it was gone and hidden before she could even begin to

understand what it was. 

"Supremely, it is far more practical to have a knife at your hip or thigh than strapped to you ankle and hidden under clothing." 

Frowning concernedly, the woman opened her mouth to speak, but closed it when she saw the distant and thoughtful look on his face. 

Silence enveloped the pair as the horses plodded along; hazel eyes kept flicking over and carefully watching the suddenly contemplative man as he stared at nothing in particular. 

Deciding to leave him be, Gabby led the horses, Major instinctively following the path she led Thunder on, down the dirt driveway that led to the only other property up on the hill. 

John returned to alertness when the horse beneath him neighed out in greeting too the other horses on the Greyson's property. 

Unable to stop herself, Gabby reached between and lightly touched his forearm. 

"Are you alright?" 

His eyes, which had immediately zoned in on her hand, flicked up and met hers. He seemed confused or puzzled over something, and it showed by the slight twist in his brows. 

"Do not worry yourself, I am simply trying to understand some…odd happenings." 

Settling back into the hard leather seat, she uttered a soft 'hmm'. 

"Anything I can help with?" 

Contemplative eyes watched her carefully. 

No, she realized as she stared into those deep brown eyes, lightened by the morning sun, not carefully, but… with something watchful and serious that had her wondering just what the hell he was trying to understand. 

"Perhaps," he eventually settled on after a stretch of silence, "However, I believe that today is about you." He prodded openly. 

She winced at the remembrance of yesterday's events, she hated crying, especially in front of other people. He did deserve to know about what had set off the woman's 'little' breakdown last night, plus, she wanted to tell him. She enjoyed it when he sat and listened to her with that attentive light in his eyes, genuinely interested in her life and what she had to say. John was always an interesting conversation partner; his rumbling baritone was perfect for telling stories and had lulled her to sleep once (which he had found rather amusing). 

"I suppose it is, just…if you need me, all you have to do is ask." 

His smile was as warm as the morning sun on her back. 

o**OO**o 

"Okay, so where do you reckon they were last?" 

John watched as Gabby and Bob talked in low murmurs, bent over a map of the property flattened out on the coffee table. The elderly man was rather sick, and no matter how vehemently he claimed not to be, the wet coughs he hacked every few minutes confirmed that he was ill. 

Enhanced hearing picked up the routes and landmarks Bob described perfectly, and he made sure to remember them for when Gabby and himself set out to search for the bovines. It was easier for him to listen in now instead of having Gabby repeat the whole conversation later. 

The man would have been in there with them, however shortly after introductions were out of the way he had been accosted by Mary. 

Gabby had been greatly amused when the small woman shooed him into the kitchen and set a plate of cookies before him. 

After the first bite he decided that he liked cookies. 

Hazel eyes met his for a brief second and she grinned from her spot next to Bob when he waved one of said cookies at her. 

"Here you go, dear, straight off the pot." 

A flowery mug was placed on the table for him, steam curling up from the tea. 

"This is my own mix of tea leaves, a good start to the day, I always gave this to my boys before they went out and rounded up the herd." She wrapped her robe tighter around her small frame, taking a seat opposite him and nursing her own mug, "Drink up, lad, you've got a long day ahead of you." 

Biting back a chuckle, he took a very obvious sip of the slightly peppermint tasting brew. 

He had taken an immediate liking to Mary. This little woman had no fear of him. Though she had raised a family of boys, he thought, eyeing the many photo's hung up on the walls with a wiry smile. Five boys, none below five foot nine were who she had brought up, taught, fed, clothed and wrestled into the bathtub. After dealing with them, John must not have been too startling, he had caught the surprised and saddened look that had overcome her as her kind eyes swept him from head to toe though and heard Bob whisper _"Lad must have fought tooth and nail for years to end up lookin' like that."_

Bringing the cup to his lips, John sipped at the brew again, smiling as the bitter but flavorful drink washed down his throat and warmed his stomach. 

Mary had a knowing glimmer in her soft grey eyes as she smiled at him over the rim of her cup. 

"I suppose that you are the new owner of number five?" she asked, setting the cup down on the table with a clink. 

"Yes, I moved in a short while ago." 

She clucked her tongue and pulled her reading glasses down from their resting spot upon her head, smoothly placing them upon her nose. 

"Well, if we had known that you had moved in I would have popped by and given you a proper welcome to our little hill," she shook her head, "I'm glad that at least Gabby was there to say g'day." 

A fond chuckle emerged from him in remembrance of that day, meeting Gabby for the first time had been a novel experience. Out of breath and red in the face after chasing Boomer, she had made quite the impression. While he had come off as a stoic robot with no social skills, she had been friendly and helpful. He was glad that Mary and Bob had not known he was moving in and was relieved that it was this version of himself that they were meeting for the first time. 

He glanced over at the blonde woman again, smiling as she absentmindedly pet the orange cat purring loudly in her lap while attentively listening to Bob. 

At the sound of a gentle chuckle, John turned back to Mary with a questioning look. She sipped her tea again, merely giving that mysterious chuckle again, a twinkle in her eye. 

The elderly woman was eyeing him from across the table in a way that both intrigued and unnerved him. 

Though he was damn good at reading people, what was going on in that woman's mind was a mystery too him. 

"Stop eyein' the boy like that, Mares, you're confusin' him with your twinkly eyed stare." 

o**OO**o 

Mary snapped her eyes away from watching the tall lad and sighed at her husband as Gabby helped him over to the dining table, though he tried to be nonchalant about it, the grip he had on the dears arm was rather tight. 

"_Stubborn fool,"_ she thought with fond exasperation as he coughed into his free hand. 

Stifling a chuckle, Gabby lent her arm as support until Bob was seated, taking her own spot beside the big fella.  
Mary felt that twinkle in her eye sparkle again when her neighbor from down the road reached over to take one of the cookies she had set in front of John, only for the man to intercept her and pull the plate out of her reach, a small smirk on his scarred lips and a playful light in his brown eyes. 

Her grayed and whitened brows rose as Gabby grinned in a manner she had not seen for a very long time and then

Mary found it very hard not to start giggling then and there. 

Bob was giving her that look. The look that said 'I know what you're thinking and you are wrong so don't start meddling' . 

Smiling blithely at him, she continued to observe the pair as Gabby attempted to get herself a cookie while John played keep-away. 

"Give me a damn cookie!" 

The smirk widened slightly, stretching into a small grin as Gabby held out a hand. Mary liked seeing that smile on his face, it lessened the harshness of his features. 

"Give me a cookie or…." She floundered, her mouth working silently. 

He cocked a brow, "Or…?" 

Mary fought damn hard against the cackles she wanted to laugh as a devilish smirk bloomed on the dear's face. 

"Or, I will lock you in my truck with Boomer after he's had a long drink of water." 

"There has to be a story behind this," She thought as John scowled briefly before setting the plate down between them. 

"Low blow," he grumbled, eyeing Buckle as the tabby sniffed at his foot. 

"You saw what I did to Quint, I obviously aim below the belt when cornered," she offered him a cookie as a peace offering. 

Mary was definitely curious now as he snorted and accepted the cookie with a slight smirk, but Bob, the interfering twat, saw her open her mouth to start questioning them and jumped in. 

"Since I am apparently too sick-" he shot a glare at her "-to go out and round the herd up, Gabby, you two had better be on your way, better leave that massive mutt of yours here too, the cows don't need a barking brick wall of fur hounding at their heels." 

Gabby sighed, wiping crumbs from the corner of her mouth. 

"Must you always make fun of my dog, Bobby?" 

"When he becomes three sizes smaller and can't be classified as a small horse I will stop, until then, no." 

Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, Gabby stood and waved the re-folded map at her husband. 

"That's gratitude for ya, feel better, old man, don't cough your lungs up while we're gone." 

The elderly woman stood with a slight smile, used to the bantering between the two, and sidled up to the younger as she pulled her shoes and hat on. John stood patiently by and waited for her. 

"I'll drop those pies I promised off tomorrow morning on my way into town," she turned and patted John on the arm, "I'll be sure to drop your's off too, dear." 

She took particular note of the fact that though John smiled at her, his eyes didn't warm in quite the same way they did when he was smiling at Gabby. The sparkle in the old woman's eyes grew in its intensity. 

"Thanks, Mary, I'll see you later." 

The two youngin's left through the front door and almost immediately Mary snuck over to the window, spying on

the two with a giddy grin. 

"I know what you are thinkin', and you are to stay out of it!" Bob said sternly, giving her a knowing look. 

"Oh, Bob, whatever are you going on about?" she waved a wrinkled hand dismissively, watching the pair as they mounted their horses, concern and worry briefly flitting through her mind at the sight of the rifle holstered on Gabby's horse and the smaller weapon John pulled out of his own saddlebag and slipped into the holster on his thigh. 

Bob huffed out a breath and his mustache twitched irritably. 

"You know damn well what, leave them alone, don't go meddlin'! You always meddle!" 

"Your fever must be back, you are obviously seeing things." 

"Dammit woman, don't meddle!" 

Mary just grinned. 

o**OO**o 

John tilted his head curiously as he picked up on the comments Mary and Bob were trading after their departure. 

Meddling? Why would Mary be meddling? 

Shrugging, he pushed it to the back of his mind for the moment and slipped the Magnum from it's safe spot in Major's saddlebag. The man had thought it better to leave the intimidating weapon out of sight when meeting the elderly couple. 

"No. You are staying here, Boomer. Sit. Stay." 

John was strapping the dagger back to his thigh when Gabby huffed as the dog whined pitifully. 

The Dane lowered himself to the ground and peered up at her with sad, sad eyes. 

"Go on, Mary will give you some of those dog snacks you like." A finger pointed towards the house they had just exited. 

Boomer whined again, but obediently got to his feet and trudged over to the front porch, laying down next to the orange cat that had followed them outside. 

Gabby looked reluctant to leave him in such a state, but when a whistle came from inside and one of said treats was tossed out the open window, she snickered when the dog immediately perked up and gobbled the treat up. 

"Alrighty, I take it that I don't have to give you the low-down for what we're looking out for?" she said playfully as she swung herself into the saddle. 

Chuckling, he gracefully pulled himself onto his own horse and took the reins. 

"Do you really need me to answer?" 

"Let us be off then!" she said grandly, sweeping her arm out for him to take the lead.  
He snorted bemusedly, telling Major to begin moving with a gentle tap. 

o**OO**o 

Gabby took a sip of water, swishing the water around in her mouth before swallowing. Tucking the bottle away, she used the same hand to push strands of hair away from her sweaty face let her eyes sweep over the cattle they had managed to round up so far. 

They had only been out searching for an hour and a half before locating the majority of the cattle, John's quick headcount revealed only thirty or so had wandered away from the herd. 

"See any tracks?" 

The answer came from her left and she knew without looking at him that his sharp eyes were constantly scanning the surrounding area for signs of the missing cows, and also for any threats. "There are some tracks leading in that direction," he raised a hand and pointed out the tracks she could barely make out. 

Taking her hat off, she twisted her hair into a bundle atop her head and stuck it in place with two pins, relieved that she had remembered to leave a few in her breast pocket. The slight breeze played with the few locks that came loose and cooled her heated skin. 

Gabby had already shucked the cargo jacket and knotted it around her waist, surprised by how quickly the temperature rose. 

A glare had briefly been directed at the brown splotches on her arm by her companion when she did remove the thick jacket, her t-shirt sleeves not doing anything to hide the bruises on her bicep. 

Gabby was still immensely grateful that John had been there last night, both at Red Belly Black's and with her at home. The reminder of the damage Quint had done angered her, but her own anger was dwarfed by the fire that had raged in John's eyes as he had glared down at the bastard, and then again at the handprint left upon her skin, showing just how tightly he had gripped. 

Snapping from her thoughts, Gabby placed her hat back on and let her eyes drift over the bulk of the herd once more. 

"Okay, we'll leave these guys, bring the strays here and then start herding them towards the paddocks." 

Agreeing with a nod, John spun Major around and followed the trail he had spotted, Gabby falling in beside him. 

Deciding that now was as good a time as any, Gabby rolled her shoulders and pulled Thunder up until he walked directly beside the other duo. 

"Still want to hear about 'the can of worms'?" though her voice was subdued slightly, he had no problem hearing her, something she would be sure to be grateful for in a short while. 

"An odd euphemism," he joked lightly, helping release some of the tension in her chest, "But yes, if you are willing to share I would appreciate you explaining this 'can of worms'." 

Drawing in a breath, Gabby stared off into the distance. 

"Well, when my parents died, as you know, I was living in Sydney and about to finish my first year of university. I dropped everything and came home to arrange the funeral and take care of their Wills…" she drew in another breath, steadying her heart as it began to race, "They had left everything to me, the farm, the animals, and there were several offers from people to buy the horses and take some of the lower paddocks off of my hands for crops and stuff but I just couldn't let any of it go at the time…it was all I had left of my family.

I dropped out of my course and moved back here, which wasn't the best decision at the time." A sigh left her, Thunders ears flicked back and forth agitatedly, sensing her emotions, "I knew how to care for the horses, exercise them, feed them, groom them, but other than that, I was clueless. I didn't know how to pair off the breeding horses to make profitable bloodlines, I didn't know how to enter any of the competitions or make any money off of them, and for a while, it seemed as if I was going to lose what I had left. 

My partner at the time helped out a bit, but with how stressed and miserable I was…he couldn't take it and broke off the relationship after a few weeks, I don't blame him now, I was a right bitch at the time, we fought almost daily and he was still enrolled in his course, unlike me." 

Shrugging, she got back to the topic at hand, finding that the words were coming easier now and it wasn't such a struggle to keep talking. 

"Sorry, getting off track, anyway, Rangi and Frank helped out with the farm duties, but with no income I was getting close to being forced to file for bankruptcy when this real asshole developer got wind of my situation and came by, the prick tried to convince me to sell the property and animals to him, for a very unfair price I might add. I refused him several times until he finally got angry enough and just exploded into this tirade about how I was just a little girl in a man's world, he got right in my face about how I would be ultimately fail and he would buy my property from the bank for hardly anything when they claimed it the next few months and I would be left on the streets. He basically tried to bully me into selling out and giving up." 

She could tell that John was scowling at her description of this man. 

"Tell me you kicked him like you did Quint?" 

Laughing once, she favored him with a quick grin. "Nah, Rangi was coming by to visit though and caught the tail end of his speech. He picked him up and threw him out the door, told him never to come back or he would…well,

I'd rather not repeat what he threatened to do." 

A low, satisfied growl harrumphed from John, causing her to grin again. "Good." 

"Quite. Anyway, after that I finally caught a break and won a competition with Rangi's help, the prize money was enough to help me get back on my feet for a short while, and I gained a bit of a reputation for having good breeding stock and made a fair bit of money from that. I rented horses out, allowed other's too board their own on my property, sold a few when I had no choice and entered as many competitions as I could, I did everything possible to bring in enough money to stay afloat. I kept it up over the years and got better at running the farm, and here I am now." 

She sighed heavily, "I was very lucky that I wasn't forced to give up the farm, and well, last night I happened to see a photo of my parents that was taken a week before they died…it just brought all of this rushing back, and all of that plus what had happened earlier just sort of piled up until…" she fanned her fingers in the air and mimicked the sound of an explosion. "It all just came crashing down." 

Her hands flopped back onto the leather seat, Thunder needing little direction as he was following Major's lead.  
"There you go, the worms are on the table." She scrunched up her nose as the metaphor, shaking her head at the gross image. "It isn't that impressive really, but I usually don't talk openly about this kind of stuff with anyone."  
A large hand settled over her limp ones, giving them a firm squeeze. Taken by surprise, Gabby blinked rapidly and met the two pools of brown watching her with a kindly gaze. The compassion and empathy in those eyes drove the air from her lungs. He stared at her long enough for her to make out the flecks of amber in the brown. 

"Thank you for telling me, and I am…sorry that you had to lose your parents so early, I would have liked to meet them." 

He pulled his hand away and it took her a moment to formulate a response. 

"You deserved to know, and my parents would no doubt have enjoyed meeting you too-" she started with a cheeky smile, "You and Mum would have gotten along like fish and water, yapping about UNSC stuff and trading war stories, Dad would have liked you too, seeing how well you play Poker and how good you are with the animals." 

He laughed at that, but soon fell quiet and observed her carefully for a moment, "If you don't mind me asking…how did your parents die?" 

Gabby felt her eyes glaze over with sorrow even after all these years, before waving away John's concerned look.

Talking really did help, and the woman was certainly not a hypocrite. 

"Car accident, they were headed into town and were blindsided by a truck. Mum died on impact, Dad made it to the hospital but passed before I could get there…" she blew out a shaky sigh, "The truck driver had had a stroke and passed out behind the wheel, he didn't make it either." She paused briefly before peering up at him, "Do you remember your parents?" 

John seemed surprised by her question, his eyebrows rising beneath the brim of the hat before a thoughtful light came to his eyes. 

"I do not remember a great deal about my birth parents, just scents, sounds, a few lines from a song of some kind…" he trailed off and she barely repressed her curiosity as he lost himself in memories, "I think that my mother had eyes like mine, but…lighter…" 

"How sad that he can't even remember what his own mother looked like." Gabby sighed mentally, hardly able to imagine growing up not knowing her sires, without being constantly reminded of their love for her and having them by her side as she grew. 

John was frowning now, clearly trying to recall the appearance of his birth mother. 

Eventually he uttered a soft sigh, "I cannot really remember more of her than that, but Halsey was like a second Mother to all of us." 

By 'us' he obviously meant the Spartans. 

Gabby's eyebrow twitched as she fought not to frown at that, Kirk had been forced to explain how the Spartans were recruited after she had asked him how he could be sitting across the table from her when he had apparently died from heart failure in a hospital when he was eight. 

While she respected what the Doctor had done for the human race, she also felt something akin to revulsion at what Halsey had done. Stealing children away from their families, replacing them with clones that would barely survive a year, and forcing them to undergo brutal training for years and years...the very idea made bile rise in her throat. For one such as her, it was beyond being wrong, it was downright inhumane and heartless. 

The woman did not think she would be able to ever look the Doctor in the eye without showing her true feelings…but, she took a deep, slow breath through her nose to calm herself, she could understand. Gabby could understand why they had done it, why they had taken children away from their families and turned them into gods and goddesses of war, why they had caused so much pain and strife for a select few to save billions. 

Hard decisions like those would have required hearts of stone and spines of steel. 

She could also see why Halsey had become like a second mother to the Spartans. An older female figure, a constant, apparently gentle and kind, presence would have given the children a reprieve from the harsh drill sergeants and merciless trainers. 

The pair was enveloped in silence as they tracked the strays into the trees. 

o**OO**o 

John watched on in satisfaction as the lost bovines mooed and rejoined the herd.  
It had taken them a good few hours to round up the stragglers and usher them back to the planes in which the other animals grazed. 

Flicking the reins subtlety, John directed Major up onto the high hill so that he could perform a headcount.  
Sharp eyes quickly counted up the total of the animals, he grinned as the number was spot on with the number

Bob had given them. 

"Well?" 

He grinned down at Gabby as she pulled Thunder to a stop beside Major. 

"All accounted for." 

"Excellent, let's have lunch before we start rounding them up." 

Gabby led her horse over to the large tree several meters away before dismounting and giving Thunder a well deserved pat on the neck. The horse rumbled deep within his chest at the praise and drank from the collapsible bowl she held for him after filling it with water. 

John did the same with Major, taking the offered bowl when Thunder had had his fill.  
By the time Major had drunk enough to satisfy her thirst, Gabby had already pulled their lunches free and sat down by the tree trunk, pulling her hat off and setting it on her bent knee. 

"It looks like we'll be done before three, four at the latest." She said as he sat beside her, taking his new hat off and ruffling his hair. 

"Good," he muttered, taking the offered sandwich and biting into it immediately. 

"You and your stomach," she said around the apple she was munching on, laughter dancing in her hazel eyes,

"Thanks for helping me today, I didn't realize how difficult it would have been to do this alone, I've always had at least Bob and one or two of his sons with me when I helped round them up." 

He helped himself to another sandwich, "It was of no inconvenience, I haven't noticed any sign of those wild dogs you mentions either." He added thoughtfully, glad that he had not needed to use the handgun. 

Gabby sighed and fell back against the tree, now working her way though her own sandwich, "That's good, hopefully any others will be caught by the professionals today or tomorrow." 

He nodded in agreement, finishing the second sandwich and opening a granola bar. 

After they had finished their lunches, the two simply sat for a short while and enjoyed the cool breeze that blew through the valley. 

The sky was had few clouds, allowing the sun to beat down upon their backs unrelentingly. The shade beneath the tree was a welcome reprieve after sweating out in the heat. He had removed his jacket sometime ago and only wore the muscle shirt now, but the heat made the material stick uncomfortably to his skin. 

As soon as he arrived back at his house he was taking a shower. 

"C'mon, we had better get moving." 

There was the rustle of fabric and the sounds of joints cracking as the woman stood. 

Standing fluidly and silently, John put the hat back onto his head and re-mounted Major. 

o**OO**o 

Gabby pulled her stock whip loose from her belt as she settled back into the saddle, surveying the herd as they grazed idly. The brown, black and white bovines made a lot of noise, and were only going to get noisier as they started moving. 

"Okay, we need to get them moving up along the south line of the property, towards the old water tank and then get them up and over the hills." She started, taking out her compass and confirming the way, "I'll get 'em going from behind, you head over there and direct them towards that lone gum tree." 

She cocked her head to the side curiously, "Just how good is your hearing? Will I need to use the radio or will you be able to hear me from the other side of the herd?" 

He smirked, amusement in his eyes. 

"I can hear you sneeze from my house, if it's quiet enough." 

"You're pulling my leg…really? It's that sensitive?" she asked, slightly awed. 

"Indeed, though I happened to be outside both times I heard you." He added as an afterthought. 

She whistled quietly, impressed. "Good thing I don't have allergies or hay-fever then." 

John laughed at that, "Shall we?" he gestured to the cows, a smile on his face. 

The woman gave him a few more tips for herding the cattle before taking urging Thunder into a canter, circling the herd until their placement was perfect. Once John was in place, she shook the coil loose and rotated her wrist a few times. 

A mischievous smile stretched her lips apart as she watched John in the distance, "Show me a smile if you can hear me." She only raised her voice slightly, not quite a shout but not her usual volume either. 

His eyes were hidden by the shadow of his hat, but she could see him grin and laugh from her position, her own laughter bubbling out when his hand swiped across his face in the sign for a Spartan smile. 

With that, she brought the whip down. 

o**OO**o 

The Arbiter stood tall as he waited patiently for Admiral Hood to arrive, R'tas had the same proud stance beside him. 

"Relations are not going as planned." The recently promoted Fleetmaster said quietly, the low tenor of his voice carrying easily. "The protestors numbers are growing with each day, none of the humans efforts are winning them over." 

He held back a sigh and refused to allow his posture to slump, "Were it so easy to push past their hate, my friend."  
Orange eyes gazed out the window, taking in the planet Earth below. 

He bit back another sigh, "Were it so easy." 

o**O**oo**O**o 

_Oh, by the by, I finally got around to sketching dear ol' Gab's. Go to my profile and clicky the link to my Deviant Art account, my pen name there is TheBandanaNation (I seriously couldn't think of a better name and was, at the time, wearing a pirate bandana). Fair warning, I'm not the best artist and I am relatively new to Photoshop. The image didn't quite turn out how I imagined Gabby looking, but practice makes perfect I suppose.  
_

_Anyone care to take a crack at drawing John? Lol, making a face for the faceless is a daunting task.  
_

_And hawt dayum, long chapter is LONG!  
_

_The blue words below….they beckon you to click!  
_

_Much love,  
_

_Razz_


	20. Chapter 19

_Beta-ed by HowAboutThisForAName!_

_Much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 19**

John was captivated as he watched Gabby work.

Thunder and her moved with synchronization and grace that only came with years of working together, the cream coloured horse hardly needed any instruction from Gabby as he nudged breakaways back into the group and used his own body to herd the bovines in the right direction.

The bodies of horse and rider moved in tandem, and it was taking all of his concentration to keep Major under control, watch the herd and continue observing Gabby as she whistled sharply and cracked her whip at the bovines when they slowed or strayed.

It was just mesmerizing to watch Gabby so in her element, her hazel eyes bright and animated.

He had seen her work before, training the horses and caring for them, but never had he seen her so…_alive._

The whip cracked again, and in the distance he spied the fence-line surrounding the paddock. A thin, brown line amongst the grass.

Making sure that none of the cows on his side were straying, John nudged Major into a gallop, circling behind the herd until they pulled up beside Gabby and Thunder.

The horses snorted heavily, chests heaving, as the two riders pulled them into a slow canter.

"The paddock is ahead, roughly seven hundred meters."

She smiled and brushed sweaty blond strands from her eyes, her face flushed from exertion.

"Awesome, I love riding, but in this heat it's not the greatest adventure."

Her simple button up shirt had been undone, the thin material flapping behind her as Thunder moved, leaving the dark singlet beneath as the only barrier to retain the heat. A thin layer of sweat shone upon her skin. A droplet slid down her neck, stopping at her collarbone briefly before gravity dragged it further down her sternum and-

He averted his eyes, acutely aware of the faint heat that rose in his cheeks as he determinedly stared at Major's twitching ears.

John was also _acutely_ aware of where that damn droplet was going.

o**OO**o

Gabby urged Thunder into a full gallop when the gates were just in view. They needed to get ahead of the herd and open the paddock up otherwise the bovines would either scatter, which would force them to round all the animals _again, _or of course the bovines would just bulldoze

right through the fence.

The horse easily overtook the noisy group and pulled ahead, practically flying across the smooth, grassy field until they reached the gate, where he eased into a well-practiced maneuver that allowed him to go from a full gallop to a stop in quick succession.

Gabby quickly dismounted the panting horse and fiddled with the chain holding the gate closed until it unlocked. The metal clinked loudly as she pulled it free and her arms strained to lift the wooden gate so that it wouldn't drag through the ground as she swung the gate out.

"_I should have gotten John to do this." _She thought as her arms burned from the weight of the wood.

After the gate was fully open, she led Thunder over and away from the entrance.

Gabby had already told John how to lead the animals into the paddock, and she could see that he had already pulled ahead of the group and was acting as the leader of sorts, encouraging the bovines to follow his path.

Barely a minute has passed when the John and Major blew past them and into the paddock, the cows storming in right behind them in a cloud of dust. Hazel eyes scanned for any strays, but found none.

When the final animal was inside, Gabby once more picked the gate up and dragged it so that only a two meter gap remained for John to leave through. Once the man and horse re-emerged from the paddock, she pushed the gate shut and looped the chain back through, locking it so that they couldn't escape.

Taking a moment to rest, the woman leaned against the sun-warmed wood and puffed out a breath.

"That was certainly something new."

She smiled tiredly at John as he gently tugged Major to a stop, the horse's chest heaving as she tossed her mane.

"That's farm life, and I am glad that I only have horses, not hundreds of bloody cows or sheep."

A bemused snort from him, then, "What now?"

Pushing away from the fence, Gabby climbed back into Thunder's saddle, taking the reins in her hands.

"Now, we head back over to the Greyson's, get a pat on the back and go home."

He laughed quietly, "Sounds good."

Clucking her tongue, and Gabby settled back into the saddle as Thunder moved into a smooth canter. Major sidled up beside them, playfully nickering at the stallion.

The Stock horse rumbled lowly in return, flicking his tail and prancing ahead with a bounce in his stride.

With a small chuckle, Gabby let the reins go slack, content to let Thunder choose his own pace on their way back. After hours of hard work the horses deserved to let loose and play around.

Closing her eyes, she reached around and kneaded the back of her neck, the faint smile turning into a grimace. A headache had started to make its unwanted presence known in the last hour or so. The slightest of pangs behind her eyes from earlier had grown into a greater annoyance, no longer easily ignored.

Breathing heavily through her nose, she freed the water bottle from Thunder's saddlebag and took a large mouthful. The water had long ago lost its coolness, but it still quenched her thirst.

Letting go of the reins completely, she poured some of the liquid into her hand and splashed it across her neck. It cooled quickly in the slight breeze, making her sigh quietly in relief.

It was hot hot _hot_ and all she wanted was a quick shower and a damn near frozen glass of water.

o**OO**o

John studiously ignored the water running _all_ _over_ her skinand focused on the tenseness he spied in Gabby's muscles and the resigned frown that dipped her brows.

Her lips pulled into an unhappy frown as she rubbed two fingers between her eyes, which were shut tightly.

Concerned, the man eyed the suns position in the sky, judging how many hours of light they had left before pulling Major alongside Thunder. There were still a few hours of sunlight left, they could afford to walk back home if necessary, John reasoned as he reached between them and picked up the forgotten reins from Gabby's lap. Both animals snorted as they were tugged into a slow walk.

Gabby made a surprised sound and looked at him with confusion. The eye contact allowed him to see the tense lines of pain in her face more clearly.

"What is wrong?"

Half of her mouth quirked up at the inquiry.

"Nothing big, just a headache."

Though he was still concerned, he let it be. Allowing her to reclaim the reins without a word.

"You did well today, and Major seems to have taken a liking to you." She commented lightly, her faint grin returning.

"As I her, she is a fine horse." John reached down and gave said animals neck an affectionate scratch.

Hazel eyes were full of laughter and satisfaction as the woman watched Major neigh softly at his attention. Preening under his gentle touch.

"You suit each other well, feel free to take her out whenever you get bored. She doesn't get as much exercise as she should."

His surprise was quickly replaced with delight.

Gabby let out a quiet laugh when he thanked her, tapping Thunder's sides gently with her toes. The horse eagerly and swiftly moved into a brisk canter.

Major followed in quick succession.

o**OO**o

The damn headache had gotten worse as the day progressed.

By the time they had gotten to Mary and Bob's the sharp pains had increased in strength, forcing her to squint her eyes to try and keep the light out, the brim of her hat not helping much.

A mild headache had turned into a migraine, and Gabby was not a happy camper by the time they approached the Greyson's property.

Shielding her eyes, Gabby rubbed at her temples again, hoping to ease the pressure in her skull.

Grumbling quietly, Gabby winced and screwed her eyes shut as Boomer's happy, but very, _very _loud bark caused the pain to throb anew. The dog whined confusedly when his owner did not smile and greet him as usual.

"Perhaps you should continue on home, I will let Mary know the job is finished."

Pained eyes opened as the low tenor disturbed the near uncomfortable silence. Squinting at the man as he watched her carefully, she opened her mouth to argue when he interrupted her.

"You are obviously unwell, and I am able to pass a message along." He said softly, placating her with a worried but kind smile. Kneading her forehead again, Gabby conceded, finding no true argument. Sending a grateful nod his way, she turned Thunder around.

A low whistle behind her and a gentle call from John had Boomer following him instead of her, for which she was grateful. At the moment his noisy and energetic nature would drive her nuts.

"Thanks, John."

She knew that he would have heard it, even if he didn't reply.

o**OO**o

John peered over his shoulder and frowned at the woman's retreating figure. There was something wrong, and as soon as he was done with the Greyson's he would be finding out what.

Major stopped before a water trough set outside the house and eagerly drank as John dismounted, looping the reins over the tethering post by the water as he did so.

He pet Boomer on the head as he knocked on the door. The dog was visibly upset over Gabby's reaction earlier, ears drooping and tail limp.

A whine came from his throat, sad blue eyes looked at him for an explanation.

He didn't have one.

Yet.

"Back already? You two make quite the pair…oh, where's Gabby?"

The screen door creaked as Mary pushed it open and swept her eyes curiously over the front yard. He moved aside as she stepped outside, the faintly cunning and mischievous light in her eyes leaving as the blond did not come into view.

"She is…unwell. A headache I believe." He said shortly, not wanting to be impolite but eager to be gone.

Mary's lips pursed and she absentmindedly wiped her hands down the blue apron she wore. Flour was smeared across the material and her hands. A faint scent of melted sugar, fruit and pastry wafted from inside the house. It smelt like the bakery Gabby had taken him too for lunch a week ago.

"I hope she didn't catch what Bobby's got…" her rings flashed in the sunlight as she tapped her chin lightly in worry. "It did come on rather quickly, and started with a headache." She met his eyes, "Did she mention feeling faint or feverish?"

"She did not, though she seemed to be uncomfortable in the sun...more so in the last hour."

_Tsking_ softly, Mary beckoned him inside, moving towards her kitchen with purpose.

She pulled out a box and took two tins from inside.

"If she has gotten what Bobby's been down with, then she should drink this tea in the mornings," she handed the green tin to him, "and this one just before she goes to bed." The blue tin was also handed over. "They will help keep her sinuses clear and keep the fever down," she tapped the green tin before pointing to the blue one again, "This one will do the same but it will also help her sleep easier."

Nodding gratefully, he thanked her softly.

"Make sure she drinks plenty, and keep an eye on her fever, if it gets too high, call me and I'll tell you what to do." She wrote something in elegant, flowing script on a piece of paper and gave it to him, "I'll come by in the morning with those pies and check up on her."

Feeling nervous, John listened carefully as she listed off things to watch for and monitor. She took out a sealed container and gave that to him as well, the liquid inside swished about.

"Keep dinner simple. A small bowel of that soup with buttered toast, maybe some plain crackers if she is still hungry."

Her eyes softened and a wrinkled hand settled over his, "Don't you worry, dear, Gabby is made of tough stuff, and I'm just down the road if you need me."

Though he was comforted by her words, anxiety still plagued him.

o**OO**o

Gabby rested her head against the fencepost as she shut the gate behind Thunder, her head throbbing unpleasantly. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach as she pulled the thin over-shirt off of herself.

She felt too hot after going through the simple task of removing all of Thunders gear and watering him down.

"_Dammit," _she cursed mentally, raising a shaky hand and running it through her hair as she tried to regain her breath and cool down.

Picking up the gear from its temporary place over the fencepost, Gabby was forced to hurriedly steady herself as dizziness suddenly made her vision swim.

Swallowing heavily and pushing the wooziness aside, the woman entered the barn and shouldered open the door to the tack room. Setting the tack down roughly on a table, Gabby emptied the saddlebags and removed the rifle from the leather gear.

The saddle and bridle were placed on their customary spot beside the other sets before she gathered everything and made her way out of the barn, trying to ignore the faintness plaguing her.

The gravel crunched beneath her boots and her head pounded with each step. Clenching her jaw, Gabby unlocked the front door and ungracefully shuffled inside, dumping everything but the rifle unceremoniously on the dining table.

The weapon was handled with care despite her shaky state as she unlocked the cabinet in the study and placed it inside.

Practically slamming the door shut and relocking it, she made her way into the lounge room and collapsed into the blessed softness of the couch, sinking into the cushions with a relieved groan.

The blinds kept the light and the heat out, and it did wonders for her sore head.

Closing her eyes, Gabby told herself that she was only going to rest for a few moments.

o**OO**o

Something was licking her hand.

Groaning, Gabby blearily opened her eyes and identified the grey blur before her as Boomer.

Her faithful hound whined quietly and nosed her limp hand.

She really wished that he hadn't woken her up as the migraine had not eased in its' assault. Two sharp pangs shot to life as her eyes opened further and a thick, heavy and downright unpleasant feeling settled firmly in her throat and chest.

Pain lanced down the back of her skull and neck as she brought her other hand up and covered her eyes.

Boomer whined again just as something settled on her back. It was a hand, large and strong but so very gentle.

John.

He asked her something, and she mumbled a reply.

Next thing she knew she was being eased up into a sitting position.

The pain swirled around her skull and the black spots danced before her eyes again.

The gasp she drew in rasped down her throat wetly.

"Can you walk?"

That was the million dollar question.

"I-uh-I think…"

o**OO**o

John watched apprehensively as the pale woman shakily tried to stand. The slivers of hazel were glazed over with an unfocused light to them, his enhanced hearing picked up the light rasp that echoed in her chest with each breath she took.

She had definitely caught the virus from Bobby.

"I don't think that-" she puffed, falling back into the cushions weakly, "-I can't stand without passing out."

It frightened him how quickly her strength had been sapped.

"I will help you."

Normally, she would have chuckled and smiled or smirked bemusedly, but now Gabby struggled to even nod her head in thanks.

He was reluctant to pick her up and disturb her equilibrium and risk increasing her wooziness. So instead of simply carrying her, John slung one of her arms over his broad shoulders and curled his other arm around her waist.

Gabby's fingers gripped his shoulder tightly as he straightened his back slowly and lifted her from the couch, her face became even paler and a pained sound came from behind gritted teeth as her free hand came up and gripped her head. Her feet touched the ground but he bore the majority of her weight as they slowly began shuffling towards her bedroom.

The difference in height made the journey somewhat awkward, he had too bow his torso over in order to allow Gabby's feet to touch the floor.

With the contact, John was able to feel the unusually high temperature of the woman's body. Through the arm around her back, he could feel the faint rattle in her chest with each breath.

They were halfway there when she sighed softly and closed her eyes, trusting him to guide her.

Boomer was hot on their tail, nosing the partially open door until there was enough space for the two to enter through.

Taking a moment to pull the comforter and sheets back, John guided Gabby onto the bed until she was seated.

"Gabby."

She _hmmed_ softly at his call, the slivers of hazel re-appearing as she squinted up at him. He crouched down and touched her shoulder lightly, "You need to change out of those clothes."

She nodded, sighing roughly before pulling a draw open and taking her sleepwear out. Despite his worry, John still quirked a small smile as the sight of the white shirt with a yellow smiley face on it.

Standing to leave, he paused awkwardly as the woman stood shakily.

"Do you-" he cleared his throat unnecessarily, "-want any help?"

He could barely hear it, but she chuckled.

"I think I'll manage."

With that, he left the room and shut the door.

But he still listened carefully in case she needed him.

And he would continue to do so throughout the night.

o**OO**o

John hardly slept that night.

After her meal and Mary's tea, Gabby had quickly fallen into an uneasy sleep.

Wet coughs echoed from her room, their frequency and duration increasing as the night went on. Her temperature had risen and she tossed and turned in her sleep, tangling her torso and limbs in the thin sheets.

Air rattled moistly in her chest with every breath she took, and each time her breath stalled it felt as if his heart would burst, even as he sat her up and followed Mary's instructions to the letter by forcefully thumping his hand against her back until that blasted blockage in her throat cleared and she breathed easier, no longer laboring for air.

John never wavered from his task, never leaving the ill woman alone for more than a few minutes. Despite the fact that as the night wore on and became very, _very _early morning, he refused to leave her side, remaining vigilant.

Sharp eyes watched for any sign of distress with a hawk like intensity, ears caught every breath, intently focused on the wet rattle.

Mary had called hours ago, before going to bed, to check up on the pair. Her voice had been soothing, gentle, and it calmed the thundering tempo of his heart for a while to hear her talk, to explain what to look for and what to do.

But now, he was riddled with worry as he watched Gabby's restless slumber. The calm had faded and was replaced with constant stress.

It nagged at his mind continuously, the concern over Gabby, and his lack of knowledge on how to care for her.

That was the real kicker.

John was a fighter, not a healer. He excelled in death and destruction. Taking life was second nature to him; it was as easy as driving a car or throwing a ball.

But he was the _opposite_ of what Gabby needed at the moment..

And it hurt that he could not be the person that she needed.

_She_ was doing all the fighting, and he was just _sitting_ here _helplessly_, able to do _nothing_ but help her stand and bring her food and water while the virus wreaked havoc her system.

His strength, his prowess on the battle field, his ability to strategize and fight for hours on end was worth naught. Sure, he had first aid skills, but on the field all he did was slap on a bandage, use some Biofoam and then hold out until the Medics could make their way over and do their job on the poor sap that was unfortunate enough to have a Spartan tend to their wounds.

This battle was not one he could fight for Gabby, he could only offer his support from the sidelines.

And _that_ was what caused his turmoil now.

The fact that there was _nothing _that he could do but watch as Gabby's face screwed up in discomfort, and she tossed agitatedly within the sheets and coughed wetly.

For a brief moment, John closed his eyes and let the despair crash over him in waves. He let the hopelessness consume him while the stern expression on his face fell and his heart pounded so loudly in his ears it seemed as if it were attached to a speaker,

Gabby's breathing began to sound strained once again, so he resolutely stood, pushing the storm of confusion and gloom aside, and rolled the woman onto her side. After several solid thumps from his hand, her passage cleared and she inhaled deeply.

With a sigh, he settled back into the chair he had dragged from beside the window.

It was going to be a long night.

o**OO**o

Mary parked her little town car next to the dinged up, white ute that Gabby owned. The truck was larger than her simple car by far, but her Bluebell was more practical for trips into town and into the city.

It was fairly early in the morning, she had always been an early riser, and true to her word the elderly woman was stopping by to both hand over the pies and check up on Gabby. Mary just hoped that if Gabby wasn't awake the spare key to her house was still kept inside the fake rock in the garden.

Fortunately for her, option number three appeared.

John opened the front door just as she was about to knock, her arms heavy with the promised pies.

While she was pleasantly surprised to see the lad had stayed the night with Gabby (for it obvious that he had), she was also concerned at his appearance. Lack of sleep darkened his eyes, which were faintly bloodshot. A five o'clock shadow dusted his jaw and stress lines were carved around those intense brown eyes of his.

Before he could get a word in she was straightening her back and ushering him inside, well used parenting instincts were roaring to life and she had the lad sitting in a chair and with a slice of pie warming up in the microwave before the minute was over.

Then she was clucking her tongue at him as she took a good look at his face. John appeared drawn and tired, but despite the obvious weariness his eyes remained alert, as did his posture.

"_Strong boy._" she thought, fighting approval and disapproval at his behavior, _"Stubborn as an old mule too."_

"Tell me that you got at least a few hours sleep last night, lad."

His lips twitched briefly, but other than that he remained silent.

Sighing, she set the heated up pie and a glass of milk before him, cocking her eyebrow and watching him until he took a bite.

Once she had the pies stored away in the fridge, Mary sat down opposite John, clasping her hands on the table.

"So, how was she during the night, after I called?"

Something appeared in his eyes, and the emotion, indecipherable as it was, had her feeling so very _sad_.

If she had to pick any _one _name to give the emotion, Mary would go with _helpless_.

She had to forcefully keep her hands from fluttering up over her heart.

"Worse, up until two hours ago when her fever broke." Finished with his meal, he raked his fingers through his hair, "She has difficulty breathing on occasion, coughs regularly and though her fever has gone down, her temperature is still above average."

"Did she drink any tea?"

He bobbed his head down once.

"She has not woken yet though, so-" he stopped mid-sentence, and she was rather puzzled when John tilted his head towards the doorway and, a moment later, quickly stood and disappeared from the kitchen.

The sound of a door opening reached her ears, and then the sound of heavy, congested coughing echoed down the hallway.

Slightly alarmed, Mary moved with speed that belied her age, following John into the master bedroom.

The hacking grew louder as she neared the room, and the dark, rumbling of John's voice carried with the sickly sounds as well.

Stepping into Gabby's room, her old heart warmed at the sight of the big, war-torn looking lad cradling the woman in his lap as she coughed in her sleep, a large hand gently patting her back, assisting in clearing the blockage until the woman finally drew in a heavy breath. He murmured words of quiet comfort to the sleeping woman.

It seemed like Gabby had taken a harder hit from the virus than Bobby, but also appeared to be recovering faster than he had. If her fever had already broken this morning, then there was a good chance that Gabby would be on her feet on a few days, and back to her old self in a week.

Ah, the advantages of being young and healthy.

Mary quietly stepped up to the pair, sending a smile towards the depressed looking dog laying at the foot of the bed.

"Has the coughing gotten worse since last night?"

Her wrinkled hand was pressed to Gabby's damp forehead, feeling her temperature.

It wasn't too bad, but it could be better.

She sighed sympathetically as the sleeping woman frowned, her breath slightly laboured and noisy.

"No, the duration and frequency has lessened."

"Good, that's very good," she said, hiding a smile as she noticed that he still cradled Gabby in his lap, his hand still gently rubbing her back.

"_What I wouldn't give for a camera right now."_

Pushing aside the desire to find her phone and snap a few Kodak moments, Mary quietly told the lad to tuck her back in.

He did so with care, lifting the woman from his lap and laying her back on the mattress with gentle hands.

Swallowing a girly giggle, she shuffled from the room at a sedate pace. Old loves songs, one's she and Bobby had danced to for years, started to play in her minds ear. A soft melody of the piano and violin combined with the light, smooth tenor of the male singer as he sang sweet words without overpowering the music.

Mary refrained from singing out loud, but instead hummed softly as she cleaned up the small mess in the kitchen.

She was well aware of the eyes following her, but she simply continued to hum, singing the lyrics in her head while she worked.

After everything was cleaned, she settled back into the seat.

Once of John's expressive brows was raised a fraction as he gazed at her curiously.

"What was that you were humming?"

She fought back a chuckle at the inquisitive light that brightened his eyes.

"An old song from centuries ago, Swing music has lost it's popularity, and I would have forgotten it if not for the memoires attached."

His head tilted to the side, a gesture of curiosity and confusion.

It was adorable.

"The memories attached?"

A nostalgic sigh left her, old memories came forward and a soft smile touched her lips. Leaning back, Mary touched the golden ring on her left hand, the diamond sparkling like clear water in the sunlight. Her voice took on a story-telling quality, one that had lulled her children to sleep many times.

"Years and years ago, when we were both still _very _young-" she chuckled amusedly, happy to see the avid interest upon John's face, "-Bobby took me into the city for a night out. He took me to this themed restaurant, an old place that closed down a few years later unfortunately, and it was set up like the old style Jazz and Swing bars from the 19th century. Chandeliers hanging everywhere, a stage with a band playing, candles in stained glass holders on all the tables, oh," she settled a hand over her chest, "It was like travelling back in time six-hundred years and it was nice to forget all the fighting going on with the rebels. Anyway, I was polishing off this lovely, fruity wine after our meal when this skinny little fellow started singing on stage, it was an old classic from the King of Swing."

Mary closed her eyes, picturing the night. The smell of the flower in her hair, the gentle warmth of the candles, the taste of the wine, it all came back as she weaved her tale.

"_You and I _by Michael Bublé, the lad had a lovely voice, and though the boy on stage was good, he wasn't as good as him," she chuckled, remembering searching for days for Bublé's music, "Of course, soon as the song starts Bobby asked me to dance, but when we got out there he started singing along." Her joyful cackles brought a small grin to John's face, "And though he got the song word for word, my Bobby's always been a terrible singer," her laughter faded into a sigh of fondness, "But when the song was done a waiter, with a cheeky smile on her face too, came by with a silver platter and held it out for me. On it, was this tiny little miniature teddy bear keying with a metal band around his belly, and by now, I am both very amused and confused, but I picked it up and that's when I realized the metal band was a ring."

Even after thirty-two years of marriage, remembering that night still sent butterflies through her belly and warmth through her heart.

"While I'm standing there making a damn fine impression of a fish out of water, Bobby's pulling the ring off and getting on one knee. He proposed then and there, with a goofy smile on his face."

She pulled her keys out and set them on the table, and John's eyes zoned in on the small, miniature teddy bear key ring. Worn and faded with age, but still quite intact.

"Of course, I said yes, and that is why I love the song, and why I will never forget it." She met his eyes, happy to see the smile in them.

"That was a beautiful story." A slightly wistful note entered his voice.

This time, her giggle could not be contained.

"That's very kind of you, lad."

Still smiling, she idly toyed with the bear before pocketing the keys.

Now it was her turn to be curious.

"What about you, lad, do you have any grand, romantic memories? A lucky lady in your life?"

He seemed startled by the question, and the widening of his eyes proved it.

"No, there is no 'lucky lady'." He said with a hint of awkwardness, though by how quickly he answered Mary assumed that this had not been the first time the question had been asked.

John's answer had her mentally grinning like a cat who had caught the canary.

"None at all? That's a shame, handsome fella like you…" she left the sentence open and shook her head, fighting a toothy grin. The urge to grin only increased when a faint red hue spotted his cheeks.

"Yes, well-"

A rip from an old rock band started playing, it was familiar and well known, even after the musicians deaths centuries ago. ACDC had never really gone out of style.

John blinked in surprise, then pulled a mobile phone from his pocket. It looked so small in his hand.

"Rick?"

Mary could hear angry tones coming from the speaker, but judging by John's reaction to whatever the caller was saying, the anger was not directed at him.

"Do you want me to come down?"

A frown worried his brow, his mouth forming a stern line as he listened.

"Very well, I will see you Saturday then."

He hung up and slipped the slim phone back into his pocket.

She waited, but when he didn't speak she vocalized her thoughts.

"Is everything alright, dear?"

"Not quite, I am an apprentice for Rick Hardmen, and early this morning there was a fire in the work-shed, there is evidence of a break in, so the police aren't ruling out attempted robbery and arson."

"Oh my," she breathed, "Was anyone hurt?"

He shook his head, "No one was harmed, just property damage. We won't be able to work until the building has been cleared by safety officials sometime tomorrow."

She shook her head at the thought of someone purposefully setting fire to another person's property. Pushing the thoughts aside, Mary stood and filled the kettle. Some tea would be good.

"As horrible as that is, now you have time to go and take a nice long nap. After staying up all night you need a good few hours rest."

She was barely halfway through speaking before he started shaking his head. John seemed to speak with his body more than with words, a definite military trait, but one that suited him. Body language was a powerful thing.

"With Gabby ill, I will need to feed the horses and refill the water, as well as a few other chores. I shall sleep later."

Though she disapproved, Mary couldn't exactly argue either. She was too old to be lugging about bales of hay and tossing them over fences for the hungry animals. The sheep grazed in the fields, living off of whatever vegetation grew in the paddocks, very rarely did they feed them anything else, excluding sick animals and those lambs that had been abandoned or orphaned.

Mary gave him a stern look, lips pursed and brows lightly furrowed.

"Fine, but don't you go overdoing it! And if you're not back by lunch I _will _be coming after you and dragging you by the ear back. Understood?" She demanded, pointing a finger at him for emphasis.

He seemed to be fighting off a grin, his eyes gaining a faint twinkle of amusement.

"Understood, ma'am."

The lad then stood and mock saluted her.

"_Strong, stubborn _and_ cheeky," _she thought, hiding her amusement and dismissing him with an exaggerated flick of her hand.

He chuckled and made to leave the kitchen, but paused by the door way, one large hand settling on the dark, wooden frame. A serious, worried frown appeared on his face, and she wouldn't quiet call it uncertainty, but something close to that emotion appeared in his eyes they met hers.

"Will you take care of her while I am gone?"

Her heart may have just melted at the protective light in his eyes.

"Don't you worry about her, lad. I've cared for many sick people in my day, she's in good hands."

A sigh deflated his chest, and he thanked her quietly.

Sending a glance in the direction of the object of his worries, he strode out of her sight.

As the front door shut, a muffled _thud _reaching her ears, Mary finally allowed the Cheshire grin to creep over her features.

Mary doubted that either of the pair realized what she saw, for they did not recognize the feelings themselves, but with her help (it was _not _meddling) perhaps they would take notice.

And perhaps, just _perhaps_, they would discover something great.

o**O**oo**O**o

_I've been a bit busy with work and medical stuff, so if the wait was long (again) I apologize for that. I got this up as fast as I could. (Plus, I got In__heritance and Skyrim, so I've been distracted by those too!)_

_I hope all of you had a fantastic Christmas (if you celebrate the holiday) and a great New Years!_

_In other news, I've been accepted into my new course at University/College, so starting sometime__ around mid/late February I'll be a student again with no time for a social life or leisure writing. Blaaaaaarg. Updates will be staggered in their time frame, and don't forget that you can always check my profile for news on updates, new stories and curre__nt ones._

_Till next time,_

_Razz_


	21. Chapter 20

_Wassup!_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 20**

"Time to wake up, dear."

A warm chuckle was directed to the mass of jumbled sheets and limps when a rasping groan answered her.

Mary set the tray of tea, soup and toast down on the bedside table, prodding the body hidden beneath the material with a smirk. Gabby had woken a few hours ago, and the older woman had been able to get her to drink some juice, but she had fallen asleep again soon after.

If Gabby had gotten some food into her as well, Mary would have let her sleep as long as she wished, however it was important that the ill woman got some food into her system.

With a kind smile, Mary pulled the sheet away from where she thought Gabby's head was. It turned out to be her knee.

"What are you doin', Mary?" Gabby slurred drowsily, bring her arm up and pushing the sheets away from her face.

She looked exhausted and pale. Her sun-kissed skin had an ill looking pallor and dark smudges were beneath her eyes.

Mary kept the frown from her face as she helped Gabby sit up with some pillows propped against her back. Her movements lacked the fluidity and confidence she usually had, and instead Gabby was sluggish and weak.

As she changed positions, more coughs wracked her frame. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as the coughs subsided. She wiped them away and let the same hand settle on her chest, lightly massaging the skin below her ribcage.

All of that coughing would have her sore by now, Mary concluded thoughtfully.

"How are you feeling now, dear? Migraine still thumping away?" She questioned while passing the warm tea to Gabby. Her brew, of course, would help clear up the congestion and sinuses.

Gabby cupped the mug, a faded blue cup with lady beetles painted on it, and sipped at the warm drink. Inhaling the fragrance with a content, if tired, expression.

"The migraine has faded, but I still feel like crap."

Mary tapped her lips in thought, running through her mental list of timelines and symptoms.

"Bobby was bed ridden for four days, headaches and weakness for the most part."

Gabby let out an unhappy groan at that.

A sympathetic smile pulled her lips apart as she softly pet the blonds' knee.

"You do seem to be pulling through faster than he did though, you'll likely be on your feet in two or three days." She pulled out her 'stern momma' expression, tilting her head forward so that she could peer over the rims of her glasses. "And I expect you to _stay_ in this bed for at least two days, _no_ strenuous activities, _no_ chores, nothing but bed rest. Understood?"

Gabby already had protests forming, "But the horses…" she trailed off when Mary _tutted _and shook a finger at her.

"We'll figure something out for tomorrow, but that lovely young lad you were with yesterday is already outside taking care of everything."

Her mouth worked silently for a moment and her eyes widened. In her hazel eyes, Mary saw a mix of emotions. Gabby was grateful, surprised and relieved.

That Cheshire grin wanted to spread across her aged face again.

"You know…" she began, a twinkle in her eye, "he stayed with you through the night."

Gabby was so startled that she nearly dropped her mug. She hissed as some of the liquid sloshed onto her hand. Mary was quick to pass her a tissue, the urge to grin only increasing.

"He did? The whole night?" Her tone was a mixture of confusion and affection.

Feigning interest in fixing up the tangle of sheets and blankets, Mary spoke.

"He certainly did, poor lad look terribly stressed over a simple virus." She went over to the window and pulled the heavy drapes aside, opening a window to let some fresh air inside. It was too hard to hold back. She grinned from ear to ear while Gabby couldn't see. "I called last night before I went to bed to check up on you and he was fretting like a new mother with her newborn."

"He was?"

Nodding sagely, Mary wiped the grin from her face and adopted a more sedate smile. "Quite. He seemed very upset over this, didn't get a wink of sleep. It's obvious that he cares about you, though so much worry over a virus seemed a little over the top."

Gabby's cheeks flushed with rose, but as the embarrassment faded as something seemed to _click _in her mind, her eyes became sad and understanding. It took a slight prodding from Mary, but Gabby voiced her thoughts, "Care to share?"

"I think…no, I _know _why this has him so…" she waved her hand around, searching for the appropriate word, "distressed. John has…had a difficult life. It's been nothing but fight after fight for him until a few months ago." She paused, fingering the rim of the cup. "What you have to understand is that every time one of John's precious people, for lack of a better term, has been in danger, he has been able to physically attempt to save them, even though he may not always be successful, but _illness_ is different. It's not something he can fight for me, and that probably scared him."

Mary felt her eyes widen, "Oh my."

"He's lost so many people, Mary…I think that for him, the thought that a virus, something he _can't_ protect me from, could hurt me so much…well, just put yourself in his shoes. Imagine seeing one of your closest friends hardly able to move on their own, hardly able to breathe properly, because of a microscopic parasite that you are practically _powerless_ against, after all of _that_, after all of what he has lived through…I'm surprised he didn't drag you over here himself."

Mary felt her hand settle over her thumping heart as Gabby's rasping voice faded.

Gabby revealed a painful truth that she had not realized, but even with the sorrow she felt for the poor lad, Mary could not help but glow at the depth in which Gabby knew John. Every word Gabby had spoken revealed something special, her knowledge whispered of conversations by firelight and moonlight, of memories shared and memoires made. The intensity of her conviction that _this _is what John had gone through last night while caring for her spoke volumes of the companionship they shared. Gabby knew John so well that even without speaking to him, or seeing him, she knew how his mind worked.

Perhaps they wouldn't need any help from her after all.

"Wait," Gabby muttered, a frown puckering her brow, "He was up all night, and now he's outside doing _my _chores?" She huffed incredulously.

When Gabby started trying to push the covers off so that she could stand Mary quickly came to her side and pushed her down.

"Sit your butt right back down, missy." She said sternly. "I've already had this argument with the lad, and I was very clear that if he wasn't back inside for lunch I would be pulling him in by his ear."

Mary smiled smugly while Gabby stared at her in bewilderment, reaching up to rub at her own ear. She was most likely remembering being on the receiving end of such threats.

If the eight year old Gabby had listened to her, she wouldn't have had to be dragged into the bath tub by the ear after making mud pies in the paddock.

"I hope he listened to you then." Gabby chuckled wetly, trailing off into another coughing fit. "Even if you'll need a step ladder to even reach his ear."

Mary chortled bemusedly, gesturing to the waiting food. Gabby slowly worked her way through the soup and toast, but didn't quite finish all the food.

"Thanks, Mary."

She pet Gabby's limp hand with a warm smile.

"It's no problem, dear."

o**OO**o

Mary was tapping her foot and staring at the clock when John came back inside. He noticed that she seemed to bite back several comments, no doubt about his ragged appearance.

John was tired physically and mentally.

Being around the horses had calmed and soothed him, Major had been very happy to see him, but he was still drained.

Instead of fussing over his appearance, Mary pointed to the steaming food sitting at the table.

"I was about to come outside and make good on my promise, lad."

He couldn't help it and huffed out a chuckle as she jabbed her finger at the food again.

"Eat."

"Yes, m'am."

"After you are done, you are to go home, shower and go straight to bed."

He liked and respected her spirit. She was certainly a fierce little woman.

Though the thought of leaving Gabby alone and sick…

Mary sighed at whatever she saw upon his face.

"Gab's is already on the mend, the worst of it was last night."

Gabby was already getting better. Unconsciously he sighed in relief.

"You need your sleep, lad. Gabby was rather worried about you when she discovered that you were doing all of her chores this morning after getting no sleep last night."

That confusing warmth bloomed gently somewhere in his chest as he heard that.

Was he getting sick too?

"_No," _he concluded, swallowing a mouthful of soup while Mary bustled about the kitchen, _"This doesn't feel like an illness…"_ He let the thought trail off, having no idea what the damn feeling was.

His confusing musings were interrupted when a pile of pies were set before him.

"These are those pies I promised, be sure to put them in the fridge when you go home. A minute or two in the microwave will warm up a slice nicely."

He watched Mary leave the kitchen then, most likely to check up on Gabby.

John finished up the meal and made to follow her and see Gabby himself when the clack of claws on tile came from behind him. Peering at the doorway, John saw a dejected looking Boomer walking towards him.

He fought a smile as the dog sat beside the chair and placed his head in Johns' lap.

Boomer obviously was no happier than he that Gabby was sick.

The dog whined, low and sad, staring up at him with soft blue eyes.

"I know," he ran his hand over the soft grey fur, "I know."

o**OO**o

Mary passed by with an empty mug as he made his way to Gabby's room, Boomer trailing behind him sullenly. He could hear the television and her faint, wet chuckle. She was awake.

Before he pushed the door open John straightened up and wiped any trace of the bone deep drowsiness he felt away. He did not want her getting upset of his lack of rest.

He should know better by now not to try and fool this woman.

As soon as he opened the door, Gabby's smile turned into a look of worry.

Her pale body jerked away from the mound of pillows she had been settled against, she leant forward, as if to jump from the bed, but instead she was consumed by coughing. Eyes screwed shut, she covered her mouth with a hand and gripped the sheets with the other.

He was by her side in seconds.

It was a relief that the fit was not as violent or long as those the previous night, though he still ran his hand between her shoulder blades in a soothing line.

She fell back once the convulsions stopped, breathing heavily until she regained her breath. John watched her carefully as her eyes closed and she relaxed against the small mountain of pillows. He had yet to remove his hand and used his thumb to work out a knot he could feel below her left shoulder blade.

A sigh left her at the sensation, and finally the hazel eyes met his.

The ball in his chest that had refused to leave loosened and relaxed at the sight of the blue and grey orbs. No longer were they glazed over with pain and fever, and though the familiar light of energy was still missing from them, they were full of _life._

It was easier to _breathe_ again.

He didn't realize that his eyes had closed until a thumb swept over the shadows beneath them. A tingle, a wave of thrilling energy followed the digits path.

"You stayed up all night with me."

It wasn't a question, she just knew. Was it Mary's doing? Perhaps.

"Don't worry, John. It's just a virus. I've had them before and pulled through just fine."

A minute shudder travelled down his spine.

"You can't fight all my battles for me, you _don't have_ to fight all my battles for me." Her voice was gentle, her face tender, her eyes soft. "I'll be fine, and I don't intend to go anytime soon."

He subtly leaned into the hand still tracing the shadows on his face and shut his eyes again, reveling in the warmth and _life _that he could feel in it.

The drum of her heart was faint by the time it reached her fingertips, but he could feel it. And he reveled in it. Savored the faint _thudding _he could hear and feel.

The ball in his chest disappeared completely as he listened to the sweetest music he had ever heard. The drums of life.

He was so tired.

She knew.

"Go to sleep, John. I'll be here when you wake up."

She always knew.

The hand nudged him until he was lying down beside her, and then those fingers were carding through his hair. The sensations lulled his tired mind and body, drawing the weariness and exhaustion out until he was left with nothing but contentment.

Nothing but calm.

Peace.

o**OO**o

Mary shut the door quietly, leaving the pair alone.

Her eyes were moist, her inner romantic and sap was having a field day.

They didn't need her help at all.

She put the pies John was supposed to take home, but obviously would not be going anytime soon, in the fridge so that they wouldn't spoil. Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, the elderly woman replayed the tender words spoken in her mind. Her heart was aching for the obvious pain the lad had been through, the facts Gabby had pointed out earlier weighing heavily on her mind as she considered just how badly a _virus _had John wound up.

It brought up painful memories of her second oldest son, though he had stopped ageing some time ago.

The dead don't grow older; they remain frozen at whatever age they had been when they died.

Henry had been twenty-three.

For months after her little blue eyed baby had died, Mary had fretted over the simplest thing when it came to her boys. A slight fever, a scraped knee. It didn't matter the severity of the injury or the illness, all that mattered was something was _hurting _her child.

It had taken a lot of patience from her boys and Bobby, plus a few talks with a shrink, before Mary had eased off on her over protectiveness.

Mary understood what John was going through now, and she _should _have seen it before, when he was standing there in her kitchen, holding a blue tin and a green tin with an apprehensive expression upon his face. He had been clueless, and she had simply attributed it to simple _worry_.

Even after all these years, her chest throbbed with pain over her sons' death.

As she dabbed at her eyes again, Mary couldn't help but smile.

Gabby and John were perfect for each other.

o**OO**o

Gabby kept ghosting her fingers through John's hair as he slept, glad that she was able to do something for him after all he had done. It was also cathartic, feeling the thick but surprisingly soft hair part like water as her hands continued to trail through the chocolate strands.

It upset her to see him so exhausted, and she could tell by looking into his eyes how deep that fatigue ran.

It still struck her that John had stayed up _all night _taking care of her, and had then done _all _of her chores and tended to the horses.

Gabby had not been taken care of like this in years, having to depend on herself if she fell ill or injured herself. There was no brother, sister, parent or partner to bring her soup and help her walk. She didn't expect help and didn't ask, but when it came to John, she hardly needed too.

Hazel eyes peered down at the sleeping man, his head settled near her hip.

It was nice to be taken care of.

Gabby had forgotten how pleasant and freeing it was to have someone to lean on, who was a constant presence in her life and showed no signs of wanting to leave.

John sighed in his sleep, it was barely a whisper of sound, but she picked up her still hand and began carding her fingers through his hair again.

Seeing him so serene was comforting, and she felt pleasure that it was her simple actions allowing him to rest so peacefully.

The bed dipped on her free side.

A grin bloomed as Boomer quietly climbed up beside her and laid down along her leg, his head on her thigh.

With a silent chuckle, Gabby reached down and rubbed his head. The Dane's tail thumped twice and his eyes seemed less sad at the action.

Her boys had been worried for her, and she felt nothing but warmth and affection for them both.

She turned the television off and tossed the remote towards the foot of the bed after a yawn threatened to dislodge her jaw.

This damn virus had taken all of her energy, it left her lethargic and unable to stay awake for more than a few hours.

That really irritated her. She hated being sick.

Although, she thought bemusedly as she eyed John's relaxed face again, if it meant having such a devoted nurse she wouldn't mind catching the sniffles occasionally.

Shaking her head at the thought, Gabby reached for the folded up blanket at the end of her bed, fighting back the urge to start coughing again. She spread the woolen blanket over John before pulling most of the pillows keeping her upright free and snuggling back into the mattress. Boomer huffed at the jostling, but quickly cuddled up at her back as she curled up on her side, her favored sleeping position.

Boomer was to her back, his warmth seeping through the bedding and soothing the sore muscles.

Her body practically curled around John's torso as she settled down, her bed was a double queen size and John took up _a lot _of space, her knees were inches from his stomach, she could easily reach out and cradle him in her arms, much like her mother did when she was little and upset. Being held so close was special, and it spoke of trust and affection to hold or be held by someone in such a manner, to allow such contact. Such embraces always had her feeling safe and protected; nothing could break past the strong wall of the arms holding her, the world outside would fade away, and all she could hear would be her mother's heartbeat and the gentle murmur of her voice as she sang a song to calm her.

Gabby gazed thoughtfully at the man snoring almost soundlessly beside her, and she realized that she wouldn't mind doing for John what her mother had done for her when it all became _too much_. Then Gabby realized that she wouldn't just _mind _holding him, she _wanted_ too.

All she wanted was to reassure him, and ease the stress that riddled him, and past experiences told her how to do that. The urge and action to help John felt natural, the want to hold the solider close and calm his ragged soul didn't feel uncomfortable or abnormal, with John…

With John, it felt _right_.

With that thought, Gabby ran her fingers through her hair, the fingers catching in a few snarls, before sliding her hand under her pillow and closing her eyes.

She didn't see the door open.

She didn't see Mary enter the room.

She didn't see the camera flash.

And she didn't see the Cheshire grin.

o**OO**o

"What do you suggest we do then?" A male voice asked tiredly, "We need to keep our relationship with the Sanghelli, we can't _afford _to lose our only allies after the losses taken in the previous war."

Admiral Hood gazed levelly at the two officers as they bickered. They did not realize that he could hear them with perfect clarity, he doubted that they even knew he was on the platform above the Cryo-bay.

What had begun as a friendly debate had quickly turned into a heated and surprisingly passionate discussion.

He stayed silent, it was always interesting to see what was said when high ranking officers such as himself were not present. Or noticed, in this case.

"I know, Christ, _I know_." The slimmer technician held his hands up, rocking back on his heels as he squatted before a jumble of wires. "It makes sense to keep them around as allies, but angry and hurt people don't see _sense, _they see their friends and families deaths being forgotten and ignored."

The taller man idly scrolled through whatever diagnostics were running on his terminal, "I get that, really, I do, but what I _don't _get is _why _they refused to listen. Yes, the Elites did kill millions, but they also saved our asses from the Flood after defecting from the Covenant. We wouldn't even have survived the war if they hadn't supported us, and if the rest of the Covenant do decide to attack us again we _won't _be able to survive without them. I don't understand why they won't _listen. To. Logic._" His last words were hissed through a stiff jaw.

That was what kept Hood up at night.

_What if the remaining Covenant did rally their forces and attack?_

What remained of the human race would be wiped from existence. Without the Sangheili they would be obliterated.

"Anger blinds people," the other one said gently, pulling another panel free and peering inside, "It wasn't too long ago that you hated the Elites as much as those protestors down below, I though I don't hate them, I certainly don't _like _them. But I do agree that we need them, even if it took me a while to come to that conclusion."

"And a lot of beer."

He snorted and smirked at his friend, "And a lot of beer." He echoed, "Now try booting up the Scanner again."

The serious conversation over, Hood composed his thoughtful expression into a carefully blank mask and left the observation bay. As he strode for his quarters, the Admiral pondered over what he had just heard.

Every point they brought up was true, and he himself had been asking these questions in those brief moments of privacy. Urgently searching for a way to just _make _the people understand that their very existence depended on the Sangheili.

The human race was still recovering from the massive losses they had suffered these past years. They had lost farming worlds, mass production factories for clothes, raw materials and other items they needed to rebuild. Not to mention the _billions _of lives ended.

The Elites had technology far more advanced than theirs, and in a gesture of faith, they had offered to share their shield technology. A grand opportunity for human spacecraft. This pleased many of the more military minded individuals, but the majority of Earth's population were civilians, and they just _didn't know _how valuable the technology was. Most of them couldn't understand how much faith and power the Elites were placing in them by giving them this.

His meeting with the civilian, military and Elite leaders had not ended well.

The civilian leaders just kept asking for _more_.

Understandably, the Elites had been reluctant to share more technology, and while Hood did want to improve humanity's defenses , he doubted that until attitudes towards the Sangheili improved they would give them anything so significant again.

The Elites were also a proud people, and two of the three civilian representatives, Nicholi Reynolds and Harold Ritbelli, were vicious in their mission to gather more technology. This of course led to heated arguments and ended with Hood and Arabella Milligan, the only civilian representative who seemed to have any sense, stepping in and breaking up the tense dispute before it escalated and damaged the fragile allegiance.

The Arbiter played a vital role in these meetings, for he seemed to understand that the Elites needed the humans just as the humans needed the Elites. He also had the most experience of interacting with humans, for he was the first Sangheili to turn away from the false preaching's of the Covenant and aid the humans.

And he had fought alongside and later brought back one of Earths greatest protectors from his frozen prison in the abyss.

Spartan 117.

Many had cheered when the reports came back that the savior of the human race had been found and was returning home, alive. Moral had soared on that day.

After a few ceremonies and briefings, John had officially retired and been given a chance to life his life in peace.

He deserved it, more than anyone.

And Hood was determined to let him have his peace, but it looked like they would need the Chief back.

With a sigh, Hood entered his quarters.

o**OO**o

_He dreamt of birds singing._

"_Come on, Johnny, dinners ready!"_

_He glanced to his left, looking up, not down._

_A child of ten, he was certain, (how-how was he certain?) grinned down at him. A smudge of dirt smeared across her freckled face, but it did not take away from the rosy cheeks and glittering green eyes._

_She reached out and took his hand._

_Grace._

_Her name was Grace._

_He looked down and was startled to see that his hand was tiny, that of a young child's._

"_Come on inside you two, you meals are getting cold."_

_That voice…_

_Standing in the doorway was a woman. Laugh lines were etched into her youthful face, they only deepened when a gentle smile pulled her lips into a warm smile._

_Grace pulled him inside and they sat at a table._

_A bird was singing._

_The woman (who was she?) used a wet cloth too clean Grace's face, circling around the table and placing the softest kiss to the top of his head before gracefully picking up a small container of water._

_She walked over to a cage and opened the door._

_Inside was a small, bright blue and yellow bird._

_The woman held out a finger, and whistled. The bird (Cinnamon, his name was Cinnamon) trilled and hopped onto her waiting finger._

_Grace and the woman laughed as the bird trilled again, and began whistling along with Cinnamon._

_The tune rose and fell, a well played game between them (he knew, he just _knew_), it drifted and caressed his mind with its sweetness and it reminded him of laying in the grass watching the clouds drift lazily in the sky. They would watch the fluffy white puffs and pick out images that they could see._

_Grace always saw flowers. He always saw dogs._

_The woman held the bird out to Grace, and he fluttered onto her shoulder, nibbling on her mousy brown hair._

"_You shouldn't let him do that, Grace. It's bad enough that he bites your brother's ear." She admonished, though it was hard to take seriously as she giggled._

"_But Mom, it tickles!" Grace giggled, "And Johnny doesn't mind, it's not like Cinny bites too hard."_

_The bird was singing again._

He woke up with a gasp.

His mother had eyes of amber.

o**O**oo**O**o

_I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, even though it's a bit shorter than the previous ones, this seemed like a good place to stop though._

_Feedback is appreciated!_


	22. Chapter 21

_**Some important stuff: **__A few questions and misconceptions have been made/asked, and I just wanted to clear everything up._

_**The books **__will be ignored, I do not have the time to read all of __the novels, so obviously they will not be incorporated into the story. This includes the latest novel, Grasslands, any and all information, back stories and so forth mentioned the novels._

_**John's sister and mother in this story **__are __**not canon **__characters, th__ey are completely made up, figments of my imagination. Also, Grace was 10, not John._

_**The Arbiter **__will be playing a larger part in the story within the next few chapters, and there will be some proper Halo action later as well. Just remember, that this is __**m**__**ainly a romance story**__, based on John discovering himself as a person, not just the Master Chief._

_**The Covenant **__will be appearing as well._

_Any other questions? Feel free to ask!_

_Betaed by the ever-helpful Illegitimate! _

_Much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 21**

John felt a cold sweat upon his skin, a heavy breath deflating his sticky chest.

He had just dreamt about his mother and sister, and in his heart, he _knew _that it was not a fabricated scene. It had been a memory, from _before_ he was known as John-117.

He swiped a hand down his face and sighed heavily into the appendage.

"Wa's goin'on?" Gabby's voice cracked and rasped thickly, from both sleep and sickness. Eyes squinted up at him as she roused further from the land of dreams.

Rubbing at one eye, she pushed herself up into an upright position, dislodging Boomer as she did so.

"Don't worry yourself." He murmured softly, hoping that she would leave him be and go back to sleep, both for her health and so that he could sort out the jumble of thoughts in his head.

A few coughs echoed in the room as she irritated her throat with a sharp intake of breath, a retort ready. After they subsided, she gave him a drowsily doubtful look. "That line doesn't work on me, spill it."

John eyed the sleep mussed woman beside him as she shuffled back until she was leaning against the headboard. Blonde hair askew and eyes heavy with the last dregs of slumber, Gabby looked like she would fall back asleep any moment.

He doubted that she would let him get away without speaking first though.

They way her hazel eyes settled on him despite the drowsiness attested to that.

Gabby pet the spot beside her, "Park it here and talk while I'm still conscious."

Sighing, he scooted back and took his place, letting his head _thud _lightly against the wall. Deep down, he was grateful that she hadn't let him go without talking. The man still was not quite used to speaking about such things after so many years of practically being alone. Marines shied away from him, ODST's downright disliked him, and the other Spartans had left him years ago. Avery Johnson had perhaps been one of the few he had spoken with about his thoughts, and even then only when the grisly veteran asked.

Boomer grumbled at all of the movement and stood with a irritated huff, glaring at the man as if he were to blame for his discomfort before leaving the bed entirely and laying down on the floor.

"I had a dream…" he started slowly, before becoming _sure_ that what he had seen was not _just_ a dream,"…it was a memory of my mother and sister."

The last dregs of sleep left Gabby in an instant, her eyes coming alive with avid interest and pleasure.

"Oh my-that's amazing!"

He did not share her enthusiasm, and when she noticed his lack of reaction, the smile slipped away. Concern replaced the excitement.

"John?"

Her fingers lightly touched his arm, whispering across his skin like a feather.

"My sisters name was Grace. She had green eyes and freckles. My mother had amber eyes and brown hair. We had a bird called Cinnamon."

Her brows dipped gently, showing her confusion. "I don't understand why you aren't…happier."

Another sigh left him. He _should _be feeling glad that he had remembered something from his past, he _should _be feeling elated and ecstatic that he knew what his blood relations looked like. The thing was, he didn't though. He _didn't _feel all bright and bubbly, he _didn't _feel like he could run outside and jump about in excitement.

He just felt alone.

Gabby shifted about, the sheets and blankets rustling with the movement. He lifted his head from the wall and watched her with subdued curiosity as she stumbled out of the bed, a few light coughs disrupting the relative quiet. With apparent effort, she heaved herself up onto her feet, wobbling slightly at the vertigo.

"Mary said that you were not to leave the bed."

A dark look was sent his way as she unsteadily made her way towards the door.

"She won't know if you don't tell. Are you coming?"

With a sigh, and a hidden smile, John picked up the blanket covering his legs and easily caught up to her as she shuffled from the room. He offered her his arm, which she took with a quiet "thank you". She allowed him to take more of her weight as they continued down the hallway, her breath becoming faintly labored from the exertion.

The woman led them to the back door, flicking the deadbolt open and pulling the heavy wooden door open. He cleared his throat, locking his arm and firmly planting his feet when Gabby made to push the screen door open and go outside.

Hazel eyes were bewildered as they flashed to his. John tilted his head towards the shoe rack, specifically, to the ugh-boots she was so fond of wearing during cold nights.

"Seriously?" she asked, arching one brow.

He was quite serious.

Rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, Gabby pulled the oversized boots onto her feet.

"Happy?"

He nodded.

"Mary has gotten to you, not to say that I am not grateful, mind you, but she's definitely got you under her wrinkled thumb."

He chuckled at her rambling, letting his body sway when she purposefully pushed her shoulder against his arm, playfully glaring up at him as they went outside.

A wave of refreshingly cool morning air filled his lungs, the faintly sweet scent of the many flowering plants on Gabby's property lingered. Sunrise would be soon, already he could see the sky behind the mountains turning a deep purple. Heavy clouds still curled around the mountain tops, lazily drifting upwards in sweeping spirals. Morning dew glittered dully in the faint light, adding a frosted glass like sheen to Gabby's backyard.

A tug on his arm pulled him towards the swinging chair that sat on the back veranda and he now understood _why_ Gabby had brought him outside despite her unwell state. The two of them had discussed many things while sitting in the swing, the gentle sway of the seat was relaxing, the repetitive motions acting like a balm when either one of them was restless or irritated. The view from Gabby's back porch was one he enjoyed immensely as well. As her property sat atop the hill, she had a view of a better part of the valley their little town was settled in. In the distance he spied the town, still ensconced in the dark shadows of the mountains. The street lights shone like the glow-bugs he had come across worlds away, and as the sun breached from over the green covered peaks they would dim, leaving the great stars' rays as the only source of light.

Taking a seat, John held the blanket out for the woman as she pulled the boots off, despite his disapproving frown, and tucked her feet under herself as she curled up in her customary spot.

Once they were both settled she met his eyes expectantly, but her patient smile was firmly in place, telling him that he could start talking when he was ready.

It took him a few moments to start, but when he did, the words came easily. "I don't feel happy because they are gone from my life. Even if they _are_ alive, I am dead to them."

She tilted her head to the side in thought, absorbing the statement. "Are you sure that they, um, faked your death?" she phrased awkwardly, seemingly unsure of the circumstances surrounding his "recruiting". Kirk had no doubt been forced to explain his own recruitment when he had first met his niece, so she at the very least knew that the Spartan conscriptions were less-than glamorous.

A soft sigh deflated his chest, "No, I don't know how Halsey made up for my absence, though replacing me with a clone or faking my death are the most likely options."

"Clone? I thought the most advanced thing they could clone was an organ or a limb, not a whole person." Her lips pursing, she silently prodded for an answer.

He fought back a wince at what Gabby's reaction was likely to be once he explained. The truth had been revealed to him many years ago, after over-hearing a conversation between Halsey and one of the genetic-biologists on Reach. "The clones weren't designed to survive, they had a year at most before their bodies would essentially begin shutting down, resulting in mass organ failure."

He watched her carefully as her eyes widened, then the color drained from her face as hazel eyes began sparkling with repressed rage. The fury darkened her eyes a shade, turning the warm color into a swirling thundercloud of grey and hazel. Lips pressed so tightly together they became white, Gabby closed her eyes and exhaled deeply through her nose, sharply the first time, but deliberately slower the second. One of her eyebrows twitched madly as she fought to control her anger, and John was thankful that she was doing so. Though Halsey had done deeds that could be considered 'evil' or 'inhumane', she had done so to save many, and had always been kind to the Spartan's. For that, John respected her greatly, and because of that he truly did not wish to fight about the doctor with Gabby.

She seemed to understand that, and he was immensely appreciative of her intuitiveness.

It took her a good few minutes to calm down, and when her eyes opened, they were calm. "Even if they replaced you with a clone-"she said with some effort, her jaw clenching around the word, "there is still a chance that you could have a family…isn't that something you want?"

"I'm not sure." He said honestly.

If Gabby was surprised by his answer, she didn't show it. Instead, she seemed to be thinking about something, a far off look entering her eyes as she stared at nothing in particular. Pulling her knees to her chest, she hugged them, her bare toes curling over the seat edge. John used his foot to gently move the swing, keeping the movements slow and even.

"I can understand why you feel this way, but…" she met his eyes then, the hazel orbs swimming with emotion, and even though her voice was gentle, there was a passionate undertone to it. "If I had the chance to reunite with my family, I would take it. Even if there was a _chance_ that I would be rejected, I would still try. That's the risk Kirk took when he contacted me." She shrugged, watching her breath turn into a little white cloud as she exhaled. "It's your family and your life, just…think about it. Ask Kirk if he can use any of his ONI contacts to find out what happened to them, he would love to help, I'm sure."

She hugged her knees tighter, the blanket falling from her shoulders. "If I had the chance to see my parents again, I would do it in a heartbeat, and I realize that we are different and our upbringings are _certainly _different, but still, family's family."

An air of sadness settled around her for a brief time, a shiver quaking through her frame. John chewed on her little speech, rolling her words around in his mind while he pulled the forgotten blanket back over her shoulders.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked softly, eyeing his bare arms. He shook his head, though he felt the cold, it didn't bother him much, he had been in far more colder, damper and muddier environments.

Next thing he knew, Gabby was taking half of the blanket and throwing it over him. He rose a brow as she rearranged herself until she was curled against his side, her cheek resting on his shoulder.

"…are you quite comfortable?" he asked once she was still, both bemused and slightly puzzled. The contact felt new and…nice.

"Yes, you make a good pillow." She joked.

"Do you always use your friends as furniture?"

She made a low humming noise in her throat, thinking. "Not like this for most of them, but the people I'm close to are used to me being like this, haven't you noticed that I'm a Toucher?"

He blinked once, "A Toucher?"

Her eyes fell shut as she _hmmed _again, "Yeah, a person that usually makes some form of physical contact with others. Hugs and handshakes, hands on the arm, a shoulder bump, leaning against your friend when you have deep and meaningful conversations," she snickered, gently nudging his ribs under the blanket, "Stuff like that makes me a Toucher. My friends loved to tease me about it in school because when we had parties' and sleepovers I would always wake up cuddling the person sleeping next to me."

John felt a _completely irrational _surge of jealousy race through him.

Oblivious, Gabby kept talking. "My girlfriends played a prank on me once and arranged the mattresses so that I was next to my crush at the time."

The jealousy turned into a green-eyed monster. Envy reared its ugly head, snarling and hissing. "And what happened?" he muttered, glaring at a poor and most likely innocent blade of frosted over grass.

She snorted, "I woke up the next morning and discovered that I had drooled all over him in my sleep." She one-eyed him as he choked back a laugh.

"What happened then?" he managed to say, viciously biting down on the laughter he wanted to let out, envy and jealousy forgotten.

Gabby sighed heavily, but humored him. He spied her lips twitching up into a faint smile as she replied. "No one else was awake yet, so I brought the dog in and smeared jam on his shirt so that the dog would lick it up, and so they would blame him. Worked like a charm."

He couldn't keep the laughter out of his voice this time, "How sneaky of you."

She laughed breathily, "I was fourteen at the time, being embarrassed in front of your crush was like a death sentence back then." Shrugging with her free shoulder, they lapsed into a companionable silence.

o**OO**o

Gabby inhaled slowly, savoring the odd mix of crisp morning air and the heavy scent of the man beside her. A small smile appeared on her face as he laughed again, the sound vibrating through their joined bodies. What she had said about being a Toucher was quite true, but she had not been so close with a person in a while, and it was enjoyable to be able to have such contact with another after such an extended period of time without constant company.

She always greeted her friends with hugs or handshakes, her best friends and she would link arms when they strolled about, Julie would always seat herself either in her lap or directly beside her. When she was a child, her parents would pick her up and hold her, and later, they would place a hand on her shoulder and hug her all the time, her mother had been particularly fond of ruffling her hair. After being alone for so long it was pleasant to simply allow herself to revel in the easy company of another. Some might think it inappropriate, leaning against someone with whom she wasn't involved (not to mention sleeping in the same bed), but she did not particularly care at the moment.

Physical contact was second nature to Gabby, she didn't think about it, she just acted.

As John didn't seem to mind the closeness, Gabby allowed herself just a few more minutes of serenity. While she had certainly been awake for the deep and serious talk the pair had just shared, now Gabby felt herself falling back into the pleasant state of half-consciousness. She hardly felt the cold, so close she was to John, who seemed like a furnace at the moment. The skin beneath her cheek was warm, the faint thudding of his pulse lulling her further into her light doze.

When he sighed deeply and shifted slightly, stretching his other leg out and crossing them at the ankle, she roused, sleepily peering up at him until he settled. The sunrise faintly lit up his features.

He gazed at the valley with a face of serenity, the faint light coloring his profile in a way that deepened the lines of his face and highlighted the many grooves and raised sections of skin that made up the time-line of his life.

She took in his appearance unabashedly, recalling the many reactions to his appearance she had observed in town. More than a few had seemed startled and off-put by them, others seemed not to care, and many openly gawked at the sheer _number _of them. One or two people that she almost flipped off had scrunched up their noses at his war-torn appearance, and Gabby thought them shallow for turning their noses up at him. Scars were tokens of battles won, of wars survived, of people saved and of enemies defeated.

While some people seemed to find the marks unsavory or hideous, the scars had never really bothered her. Gabby had some of her own, though not _nearly_ as impressive, and her mother had always been proud of hers, and that sentiment had been passed onto her daughter.

The severity and location of some of them scared her, but she _never_ thought them ugly.

Even if she were to think the scars an eye-sore, John's other traits would certainly make up for it.

He was kind, strong, protective, loyal and attentive, she could go on, but the easiest way to describe John with only one word would be as a Protector or a Guardian, a well earned label, if she were to have anything to say about it.

He was a solid wall of a man, build powerfully and he used that power on more than one occasion to _act. _She had never been clumsy or un-coordinated, but compared to the athletic and oiled grace that John moved with, Gabby has felt like a duck at first, all big feet and awkward limbs, but she didn't feel inferior, _never _did she feel lesser, nor did he make her feel that way. He used his grace and strength to assist her and protect her, the situation with Quint and Kyle being the most recent of such times.

Basking in the warmth of the man, Spartan and, most importantly, _friend_ beside her, Gabby sighed sleepily and thanked whoever was listening that she had a companion like John.

Lady luck had been smiling down on her when John decided to move in across the road.

o**OO**o

John felt it when Gabby's body relaxed completely against his arm, and he knew that she had fallen asleep again.

It was a shame, he thought as he used his free arm to pull the blanket under her chin, that he had to get up soon and do the chores Gabby normally did on her farm.

She made a content little sigh in her sleep, burrowing her face deeper into his arm and settling down again.

Stifling a snort, John smile was full of mirth. Who would have thought that Spartan's made comfortable pillows? The hard muscle he was comprised of could hardly be _comfortable_, but looking down at the very peaceful and relaxed woman he decided it must be a _Gabby thing_.

Some things she did seemed like the social norm, others seemed like _the Gabby n__orm._

After knowing her for a little under a month, he felt comfortable enough in his assessment of her. She had a unique way to approaching problems and solving them, her forward but kindhearted behavior was strangely reminiscent of those of sympathetic nurses when their patients were more than a little reluctant to being treated. She had a quick wit and a sharp tongue when wanted, and a spine of steel when needed. Stubbornness was a trait of hers that defined her, both in good and bad aspects, but if she was in the wrong she would see reason, if it presented itself. Most importantly though, was her compassion. She listened, she reasoned, she accepted, and assisted. She explained without judgment, she welcomed into her life without reserve.

Cortana had been very right in her assessment of him. He had luck, and a damn good deal of it.

Turning his eyes from the slumbering woman, he gazed at the brightening skyline, feeling tranquil as he watched the sky steadily turn from darkness to day. As the sun's rays began to breach from behind the mountains, broken beams of light burned through the remaining mist that still gripped the green peaks. He stayed still as the stars vanished, the deep blues and purples giving way to warm red, yellows and oranges, setting the sky aglow with fiery warmth.

Bird began to sing and flutter about, soaring through the sky with careless ease as they began their daily search for food. The horses roused as the sun touched their fur, moving about in their fields and greeting the day with soft knickers and sleepy rumbles.

He savored the peace and warmth of the moment, allowing the sun to warm his face and Gabby to warm his side.

There was that strangely familiar a warmth in his chest too, but he didn't know what to make of that.

o**OO**o

John surveyed the damage with a poorly concealed frown. Arms crossed and feet spread, he made an intimidating picture.

The inspector laughed nervously, subtly edging away from the angry figure and gripping his clipboard in a white-knuckled grip.

Rick, somewhat bemused by this, roughly thumped the pale man on the back, causing his glasses and a few strands of carefully combed hair to become displaced. "He's just pissed that someone did this on purpose," he waved his hand at the burnt building, "Don't mind him."

"O-of course, I'll just examine the interior now." He stuttered, probably praying that John was going to stay out here while he did so. As the jittery suit practically ran inside, John continued to glower at the blackened part of the work shed.

He was surprised that the building didn't go up in flames under the force of his laser-eyed scowl.

"I think that you made him piss himself." Rick mumbled with a faint grin, sidling up beside him.

John grunted, still glaring at the black wood.

"Ease up, soldier, the police will find who did this." Beneath the amusement was a very real request for John to _calm the hell down._ With a grumble, John loosened his stiff pose and dragged his eyes away from the offending party. Namely: the burnt section of the building.

"Do they have any idea who did this?" The slight joviality in Ricks eyes faded at his query, being replaced with frustration and anger.

"No, but they found a broken bottle of whiskey and think that it may have been used to start the fire, and hope to get some DNA or finger prints from it."

"How long until the results come in?"

Rick huffed, "A few days, depending on the forensics people. They're backed up in there, apparently. Too much work and not enough people to do it." A muscle ticked in his jaw, "But at least insurance covers this, and as soon as this fella gives us the go ahead we can start rebuilding and sorting through the damage properly…" He trailed off into unintelligible mumbles, though judging by the cursing John was able to pick up with his keen ears, he didn't really want to understand what Rick was saying.

Who would do something like this, he thought.

Or _Why_?

Why would a person or people purposely damage another's livelihood and property? This was a question John kept turning over in his mind. He genuinely could not fathom why this had happened. Rick was a decent man, and as far as John knew, he hadn't angered anyone enough to do something like this. The mentality and motive behind this left him genuinely baffled.

Shaking his head, John shadowed Rick as limped inside the front room.

Amusing as it was to see the inspector jump around like a terrified Grunt, John really should leave the poor man alone so that he could finish up his paperwork. They had a lot of work to do, and the sooner they started the sooner Rick could reopen.

"I suppose the silver lining here is that you can get some really good experience by rebuilding and fixing up the place." Rick chortled, scribbling something on the blueprints of the building.

"So, how was everything with the Gabby the other night, after that fiasco at _Red Belly Blacks_?" He asked, eyes still on the plans before him.

John lent back against the bench, following the lines Rick drew over the plans with curiosity.

"She was rather…upset about the whole situation," he settled on. Rick glanced up at him, cocking a brow.

"That seems like a bit of an understatement, considering how angry she seemed after kicking him in the jewels." They shared a grin, a quick flash of teeth. "The ginger came back in a little later to apologize to the manager, I had a few words with him when he recognized me and he explained what had happened earlier. Nasty blighters, those two seem like." He said in reference to Quint and Kyle, shaking his head all the while. "She's alright now though?"

"Relatively, Gabby caught some sort of virus and has been unwell since yesterday, I doubt the stress of the incident helped."

Both silver flecked brows rose, the blue prints lay forgotten. "Strewth, poor woman. Dealing with those buggers then getting sick? What a bad couple of days. She seemed like a tough Sheila, I'm sure she'll pull through fine." He said as if John needed reassurance, which he didn't as of yesterday after lunch.

Gabby had already seen to that.

o**OO**o

It was Saturday morning before Mary finally conceded to Gabby's puppy-eyed pleading and general stubbornness and declared that she was well enough to leave the bed for more than a meal or shower.

Gabby practically leapt from her bed and, still in her pajamas, burst out the front door and took a deep breath of fresh air, savoring the smell of freedom (which was suspiciously like horse manure and hay). After which she promptly dissolved into a fit of coughing because she strained her recovering body.

Mary was _not _pleased.

After some finger waggling and a damn near ear blistering lecture, Mary ordered her to take it easy and continue drinking the tea for another few days before leaving her in peace.

Despite the lecture and still feeling slightly drained, Gabby stood on her front porch and threw her arms wide, having a whole 'I'm queen of the world!' moment. Being bedridden for two days had left her going stir-crazy, and she was feeling a little giddy with the sudden feeling of being able to _move _without restriction.

Boomer sat down and cocked his head to the side, truly baffled by her behavior no doubt.

Grinning broadly at the Dane, she ruffled his fur, fingers curling as she gave him a belly rub. She would have gone bonkers if he had not diligently kept her company all these hours. Of course, she could not forget to thank John. Day time television was as boring as watching grass grow, which she had done for a while, as there had been little else to do but stare out of her bedroom window until he had brought her a selection of movies from the rental store. One of which was _The Princess Bride_. He had stayed over yesterday after noon and watched it with her.

John's remembrance of his birth family and the subsequent conversation that had happened afterwards had brought them closer, and she enjoyed that fact that she had a new confidant, that trusted her as equally as she trusted him. Secrets could be told without the fear of them being revealed to others, vulnerabilities could be exposed without the worry of being judged.

There were only two other people that Gabby felt comfortable enough with to be so _free_ with. Monica and Jess, her friends from high school and University respectively, were part of a circle of friends she held in high regard and close to her heart. Rangi certainly was close to being considered a part of that circle, but there were some things she could never really talk about with the man she considered her surrogate father. Sex and men being the two biggest topics.

Rangi had walked in on her when she was talking about the "taboo" subjects with Monica once. He had gone very red, then very pale as he back out of the room, eyes wide and back stiff. Monica had thought it hilarious when she saw him walking to his car, hands clapped over his ears and mouthing some sort of mantra. Gabby was mortified and hadn't been able to face him for a week.

The woman laughed as she imagined John meeting Monica. John was a tough as nails Spartan who had never been intimate with anyone, and Monica was outgoing and supremely confident woman who was a part time yoga instructor and a full time sex and couple therapist.

Now _that _would be an interesting day.

Still chuckling, Gabby went back inside, determined to get some house work done.

o**OO**o

John threw the last of the pile of blackened wood paneling into the trailer, pulling the gloves off with a tired grunt. Rick was in no better shape. The man was massaging the stump that shortened his left leg, the prosthetic had been removed and carefully set aside.

"Are you alright?" he voiced with concern.

Rick sighed, stretching what remained of his leg out and resting it on a tree stump. "Yeah, this buggered up leg of mine hurts if I walk on it this much, and on cold mornings. Nothing to worry about, mate, she'll be right after a good soak in hot water."

Leaning his hip against the trailer and drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the scratched metal, John took a drought from his water bottle. "If you don't mind me asking, why didn't you get a leg cloned instead of the prosthetic?"

Rick chuckled, a little sardonically, leaning back and throwing an amused smirk his way. "Not all injured marines get health benefits, only those seen as figureheads or with a high enough rank can get clones organs and body parts without coughing up the big bucks. I was just a foot soldier, they gave me a purple heart, slapped a band aid on me and sent me home with an honorable discharge."

John blinked, unsure what to say. Rick noticed this, and his smirk morphed into a more sedate line. "No use getting worked up over it, I made my peace a while back. They can't fix everything, and doing what they did ensured that I was able to get the best care available and, well, I probably wouldn't have seen my family or home again if I hadn't been discharged."

Rick became somber, eyes distant. "My entire platoon was killed a few weeks after I was sent back here," he wiped a hand down his face, fingers twining in the thin chain that held his dog tags, "Their ship was attacked, blown apart by a suicide squad of Grunts that managed to plant bombs near the hyper-drive reactors." The hand fisted tightly around the little, metal plates, "I miss them, every day, but I know that in my condition, there was nothing I could have done. It took me a while to see it that way, but at least this way I can care for my family and keep them safe."

There was something profound to be said about war veterans, he thought as Rick disappeared into his memories. The scars they carried, the survivors guilt that consumed them at times, and memory of the lives they had taken. Soldiers everywhere were suffering from the aftermath of the war, and both Rick and John were a part of them. Rick had obviously been afflicted with survivors guilt, and though John was certainly an exception when it came to normal soldiers, he had been just as affected as the next solider.

His skills had meant next to nothing outside of a battlefield, his knowledge counted for naught. Without the help of a very kindly blonde woman, John would have been lost and alone in this world, which ironically had felt _alien _to him.

Sighing, the man cracked his neck, running a hand through sweat dampened locks.

Coming out of his daze, Rick reattached his prosthetic leg. "We've made a good start, for two days work, let's take this to the dump and head home." He jerked his chin at the truck and trailer. They had only managed to tear down the damaged sections of the roof and part of the west facing wall, but the trailer was full, so there was little else they could do. Anything inside the building that hadn't been damaged or was salvageable had been moved into the second storage shed and into the showroom, which was currently being used as a temporary storeroom as well.

Rick locked up the shop while John secured everything down in the trailer with rope.

o**OO**o

Gabby balanced the box of still warm banana bread against her hip as she locked the front door. Housework had only occupied her for so long, and seeing how much time and care John and Mary had taken with her these last two days, the woman had decided to bake some banana bread as a thank you.

Since she hadn't stretched her legs _at all _since she had fallen ill, Gabby decided to take a leisurely stroll to John's house and drop the container full of deliciousness by his front door. She wasn't a culinary master by any rate, but she did make great banana bread. It was the least she could do for her two neighbors after all the time they had spent watching over her.

Though, as Mary would likely come at her like a hurricane if she knew Gabby was strutting about, the woman decided to leave delivering Mary's loaf until tomorrow. With her head still feeling a little thick and her limbs still heavy (not to mention the slight wheeze to her breathe as she peaked out of the shelter of her driveway to see if Mary's little car was trundling along), Gabby was in no mood to drive her truck.

Seeing that the coast was clear, for now, Gabby welcomed the afternoon sunlight on her face as she slowly made her way up the road. The pleasant feeling of using her bedridden limbs after so much forced idleness was divine, chasing away the faint fatigue and soreness that still wrought her body.

Boomer had, of course, joined the woman on her little journey. Large feet plodding along in the dirt as he raced up and down the roadside, sniffing at a bush and rolling around in the dirt. His spirit was contagious, and Gabby tossed a stick as far as she could, laughing as he barreled after it, drool flying and ears flapping.

They continued this game up until the pair reached John's driveway. Flinging the slimy stick in the opposite direction, Gabby readjusted the box she carried with one arm so that it didn't poke her hip so annoyingly as she turned into the driveway. Her feet, clad in the iconic Australian footwear, scuffed at the gravel that made the driveway up. The small road to John's house was shorter than hers, but he had a thicker circle of trees surrounding his property, offering a privacy that the distance from the road did not.

Humming a nameless tune, she stepped onto his front porch and set the box next to the door mat. Slipping the note from her pocket and tucking the corner underneath the box so that the mild breeze wouldn't carry it away. It was a simple thank you note with the promise of blueberry muffins tomorrow.

She turned to leave, and her foot was hovering over the edge of the first step when Boomer, a dangerous growl building in his throat, charged past her, accidently tripping the woman as he did so.

With a cry, Gabby flailed about, desperately trying to catch a hold of the railing. Her fingers missed by a hairs breadth, the nail of her forefinger just scratching the wood.

In the second that passed while Gabby was airborne, she heard Boomer bark threateningly at something, before her descent was suddenly stopped by a pair or steely arms.

Hazel eyes widened as they took in the fangs, gleaming silver armor and burning orange eyes.

"_Oh shit on a stick…"_

An Elite was starting down at her with an almost weary look in his reptilian eyes.

She could have screamed bloody murder, like any normal human, but instead she did something that would be held over her head for the rest of her life.

She passed out.

o**OO**o

Thel stared down at the limp human female in his arms.

What in the name of the Forefathers did he do _now_?

o**O**oo**O**o

_Weren't expecting that, were ya? ;)_

_I'm back at University folks! As much as I love writing this story, my studies come first. This means that updates may become sporadic, but I will still try for monthly updates. I have so much assigned reading!_

_And this is a bit of a personal question for some, but how would _you _describe love, as an emotion/feeling? Anything you can offer is appreciated!_

_Feedback?_

_A __**Sheila **__is a woman. I enjoy using Aussie slang in Rick's dialogue, it's fun. _

_Much love,_

_Razz_


	23. Chapter 22

_Thank you for all of the wonderful feedback!_

_I have also been going through and fixing up the previous chapters, removing inconsistencies and editing mistakes. I had wanted to remove John's nightmare sequences, but I left them be as a few people found them interesting, and though the original plot idea I had for them doesn't quite fit the story anymore, I believe that I can make it work…somehow. If nothing else, it's a minor case of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome._

_This chapter is un-betaed, I've having trouble contacting both of them.  
_

_Much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 22**

After warning off the loud, snarling beast with a threatening glare, Thel carefully carried the female human up onto the elevated wooden floor that she had nearly fallen from moments ago. There was a cushioned seat of some kind below one of the windows, and it seemed large enough to set her down upon.

Keeping the subdued but still growling animal in his sights, Thel cautiously laid the human down, being mindful of her head, and took a large step back when it seemed like she would not fall off.

Perhaps he should have called the Spartan instead of arriving unannounced, he thought while debating whether or not to re-activate his cloak. Was it possible for the human to simply believe her mind had played tricks upon her, and had passed out from sun-sickness?

The animal, a large and _very _carnivorous looking creature, stalked forward until it was between the woman and himself. It was either brave or stupid, but he had to respect the humans for taming such beasts, for the loyalty it held towards the woman was worthy of admiration. Such creatures did not exist on Sangheilios, though there were the six-limbed Lo'tall who bore similar physical traits, sans the fur. Many had tried to tame them, in the same way this beast had been tamed, yet all failed (usually in a fatal and bloody manner), so the Lo'tall were allowed to roam free in the wilds.

Yet even though the differences were obvious, this animal was still fearsome in its own right. The ring of leather around the animals throat and the protective stance he took before the female were the only two things stopping Thel from introducing the beast to his energy sword. He did not want her to become even more upset when she awoke, or pass out again. A chill shot down his spine. What if she cried? He swore in his native tongue, he had seen a few crying humans. It was messy, slimy and often loud.

Keeping his stance as non-threatening as possible, Thel took a further two steps back, until the armor upon his back _thunked_ against the wooden railing. The animal, which he finally recognized as a breed of the earthen dog species, finally turned its attention towards the female. It's tongue, or so he hoped, made a wet trail over her limp hand several times until she began to rouse.

To cloak or not to cloak? Would she cry if she saw him again?

"_By the Forefathers, please don't cry." _

The female groaned, blearily opening her eyes and peering at the ceiling above her quizzically, mumbling something unintelligible and rubbing the spot between her brows.

It was easy to tell when she recalled the cause of her blackout.

The speed with which she sat up and became alert was impressive, for one whom was not a warrior, he thought as she jack-knifed up into a sitting position, legs bumping into the dog as she swung them out.

Eyes the color of a stormy Sangheilios sky landed on him, every muscle in her body tensing visibly.

The dog was growling again.

o**OO**o

Gabby's hand held Boomer's collar in a vice, the feel of his fur and familiar warmth was hugely comforting as she had a staredown with the Elite standing not five feet away. Although, considering the fact that her stare was more of a _doe caught in the headlights of an oncoming_ _car_ look, it wasn't a stare down as much as it was an _ohmygod what the hell do I do now _look.

Heart racing and back stiff, she was ready to either start screeching like a banshee or take off running like her ass was on fire, perhaps both. Several thoughts ran through her mind while the "staredown" continued, some were discarded immediately. Was he an assassin sent by vengeful forces to harm John? A friend? Foe? Would he hurt her? Boomer? Instincts hammered into her from years of drills and practice evacuations screamed at her, bellowing for her legs to start _moving. _Her mobile was sitting on her bedside table, not in her pocket, though she doubted that she would be able to hit speed dial and call John before the Elite ran her through, if that was his intention.

Eyes of burning, sunset orange met hers with a wary light. Slit pupils watched her like a cautious snake, following every movement and capturing her eyes in a hypnotic like state. Despite the cold fear sending waves of adrenaline through her system, something tugged at her memory, making her pause and think.

_Wait a sec…_

Losing some of her childish need to run screaming while waving her arms about like a headless chicken, Gabby took in the sharp but elegant armor the Elite wore. It was beautiful, in a deadly way. Inscribed with curling designs and wickedly pointed in some sections, the helmet and shoulder piece in particular were impressive in that manner. It was all _familiar_.

The she remembered where she had seen it. Seen _him._ He had appeared in magazines and on television many times.

It was The Arbiter.

_The. Arbiter._

"_Oh bugger…"_

The realization struck her like a lightning bolt, and her mind ground to a halt. She could very easily pass out again, and it took a _heroic _amount of self control to stop her mind from blacking out.

She stopped, and _remembered. _

The Elite before her was The Arbiter, and he was the strongest voice for peace amongst their two stubborn races, and was also a friend of John's, and that knowledge had her heart calming its frantic race. Yet she still found herself swallowing nervously as she eyed the de-activated energy sword hanging from his belt and the plasma rifle sheathed upon his thigh plate.

His presence was immense, dominating and full of authority, he practically oozed grace and power, and if Gabby had not already been exposed to beings with casually authoritarian auras such as this, she likely would have felt cowed.

On television they usually showed him armed, as their armor and weaponry was a statement of pride and station with the Elites, and The Arbiter's voice was one of those smooth baritones that easily reached every corner of the room, not matter the already present volume of the noise in the room. Those traits alone were enough reason for the Arbiter to seem so…commanding, _but_ what she hadn't understood yet was how _freaking massive _the Arbiter actually was in person. He was _at least_ a foot taller than John, which made him just over a foot and a half taller than she. Facing something _bigger _and _taller _than John was just _weird._

The amour didn't make him seem smaller either.

How should she approach this, she thought when the silence between them began to tick over from _awkward _to _I hope the ground swallows me up right about now_.

"So…"She floundered about for a second, forcing herself to not look at the very sharp fangs or the segmented jaw as he sighed minutely, "you're John's friend, right? No nasty intentions then, I suppose?"

Blunt, was the approach she decided to take, apparently.

He blinked once, slowly, before his mandibles clicked together. She would almost say that it was a curious gesture on his part.

"I am a comrade and friend of the Spartan, yes. Nor do not wish any harm, upon either of you." The reptilian eyes narrowed slightly, helmet glinting in the light as he tilted his head, "Who, might I ask, are _you_?" The tenor was deep, as low as John's, but smoother. It lacked the grittiness that defined the man's iron hard voice.

Tugging on Boomer's collar, an order to calm down and sit, Gabby answered with an embarrassed chuckle, feeling somewhat more at ease by his declaration. John had said that Thel was brutally honest, and held his honor as a warrior in high regard. If he said that he wouldn't harm her, he wouldn't. "You mean asides from the woman who passed out from shock in your arms?"

The stoic expression did not waver, but she thought that she may have detected a suppressed flash of humor in his eyes, as well as surprise. "Yes, asides that."

Making a quick decision, Gabby stood, offering her free hand with only a _slight_ amount of nervousness. If John called him a friend and placed such great trust in the Arbiter, she could at the very least be welcoming. The instinctual fear that had gripped her earlier was a visually rooted reaction, even though she was for the alliance, suddenly being confronted with an Elite was a great shock to her system. "I'm Gabriel Edwards, also a friend of the Spartan, or John as I call him."

He stared at her offered hand for a beat with some surprise, likely not expecting her to be so bold and forward, hesitating somewhat before slowly reaching out and practically swallowing the appendage in his own. It was odd, shaking hands with an alien, she thought. The three, long and clawed fingers easily wrapped completely around her hand. The bluish-purple of his visible skin stood out in stark contrast to her sun-kissed hand.

He shook her hand once, twice, and then withdrew.

"Thank you, for catching me, by the way…and, I apologize for passing out, you took me by surprise." She felt a wave of heat rise in her cheeks.

Gabby definitely saw the amusement in his eyes this time. It made him seem less imposing and, well, terrifying.

"Thanks are not necessary, and I have been greeted in worse ways, fleeing while screaming is the foremost reaction." He said bluntly, but not rudely. She wondered if he was trying to be funny.

Gabby soothingly scratched Boomers ears while she laughed softly, "That was going to be my second reaction before I recognized you."

He huffed out a chuckle, though the singular noise could hardly be considered a chuckle for how quiet it was.

"I suppose that you are here to visit our mutual friend?" She asked, not really needing an answer but curious enough about her new company to keep the conversation going. Gabby also wanted to be on good terms with the Elite, disliking the thought of not being at least friendly acquaintances with one of John's friends.

The Arbiter inclined his head gracefully, the gesture refined and elegant. "It was my intention, though if I knew he would have company, I would have forewarned him."

Gabby fought down a giggle at his speech, so cultured and proper, sophisticated like an English professor. It was so similar to the way in which John spoke originally, before allowing his strict speech and manner to calm down, and letting go of the rigorous, militarist structure he had been held to for most of his life.

"Perhaps you should have done that anyway, John is at work, and won't be home for a while yet." She said, blinking in surprise when his proud posture slumped ever-so-slightly at her words, his shoulders drooped down and the arch of his neck bent forward.

"It would seem so." He sighed, "I had hoped to gather is opinion on certain matters."

Frowning slightly, Gabby took this moment to truly _look _at the Arbiter, to peer beyond the tall Elite and see the spokesperson for the Sangheili race, to see the Elite with the weight of his entire people upon his shoulders. There was a tired light to his orange eyes, the faintest aura of defeat hung around him, clinging to his powerful form and dragging him down. He was proud, of that there was no doubt, and he hid this negativity well, but after reading an emotionally stunted Spartan, a guarded Elite was no trouble.

She realized that it was like meeting John all over again, like seeing him so lost in the lounge room of his own home, and this filled her with sadness. "I assume that it has to do with the tense relations between our peoples?" It was a bitter taste on her tongue, this issue, the thought that so many would risk the newfound peace after so many years of bloodshed.

He had already concealed his brief weary slump, hiding the mental exhaustion behind a heavy guard that most would not be able to break through. Luckily she had gathered much experience when it came to sensing one's emotional state.

"It is indeed, relations are not going as I had hoped."

"_Poor guy, he looks so depressed,_" she thought, taking in the worn figure of the Elite before her. Considering how much pressure was upon his shoulders to preserve and improve the very fragile relations, Gabby was not surprised. "What had you hoped for? By now, at any rate."

His mandibles clicked together again as he crossed his arms over his chest, orange eyes considering. "It was anticipated that by the end of the first year that mixed squadrons would be introduced to the armed forces, or the idea of them at least, we would also have trade lines established in materials and food, and possibly have a ship crews of both our peoples as well." A sigh, "I have offered the services of my Elites to help the re-building effort, most, if not all, have been turned aside, excluding repairs on some human spacecraft and parts of the Defense Grid."

Gabby nodded in understanding, "It is difficult to mend fences when you're never given the chance."

The Arbiter gazed at her, as if she were a child slow on the uptake, "It was not fences that we offered to mend, but buildings and homes."

Laughter bubbled up, and her cheeks puffed out like balloons as she valiantly tried to hold in the mirthful noise. That comment had caught her completely off-guard, even after weeks of introducing and explaining slang to John.

"Are you well, human?"

Funny sounding snorts and hiccups managed to break through, but she forcibly held back, not wishing to appear rude and offend the Elite.

"Yes, I'm fine, it's just-What I meant by 'mending fences' is that it is difficult to repair relationships and the like when you aren't given a chance."

He made a sound of annoyance, "Ah, more of this Earthen slang, why do you humans not simply say what you mean, instead of using these impractical colloquialisms?"

While smiling, she said, "It adds color to an otherwise boring language. I suppose a few misunderstandings have occurred?"

"Yes." He growled, the flash of white fangs sending a quick chill down her spine, which she suppressed quickly. Boomer sensed her brief discomfort, and his hackles rose. Orange eyes flashed down to the Dane.

"Your beast is noble in its intent to guard you." He stated.

"Hush, Boomer." She ordered, worried that if he did decide to attack the Arbiter the Dane would be hurt, "He is very loyal, and _obedient_." She emphasized her last point with a firm tug on his collar. Reluctantly, Boomer sat back down, ceasing his growling but still carefully watching the alien. Out of reflex, her eyes swept over the front yard, as if expecting John's beast of a truck to rumble down the drive.

A thought occurred to her then, as she noticed the lack of _any_ vehicle in the driveway. "How did you get out here? I don't see a car."

He appeared surprised for a moment, before pressing something on his forearm plating. A second later, something very _purple_ practically appeared in front of John's house. Scraping her jaw off of the ground, Gabby stared at the small spacecraft sitting innocently on the grass.

It was sleek and smooth looking, like all of the Covenant cruisers she had seen in images, but unlike those images, it didn't evoke the cold, chilling fear in her belly, but instead filled her with a child-like sense of wonder.

Forgetting about Boomer, who was staring at the ship with equal amounts of suspicion and shock, Gabby walked down the stairs in a daze, taking in the ship as the sun shone off of its surprisingly shiny hull.

She had seen the Banshees and Phantoms on the news, and this was a mix of the two. It was clearly void of weapons, and perhaps only large enough to carry a handful of people, Elites or otherwise. It had the tapered and aerodynamic form of a Phantom, but stood on stands similar to those of a Banshee. The coloring was different from any Covenant crafts as well, the familiar purple was still there, in a darker shade, but also a lighter one. A thick, bold streak of white ran along the sides, lightening the ship entirely and making the whole thing seem less foreboding.

It apparently had a cloak that would render it invisible as well.

Breathing a small sound of exclamation, Gabby reached out and ran her fingers over the hull, and surprisingly, the metal was cool to the touch, not at all affected by the suns heat.

"_And I thought John's truck was impressive."_ She snickered, taking a few steps back.

"Though many find our ships remarkable, they look upon them with fright, and use their own methods of transportation whenever possible. Yet you…" The Arbiter had followed her, and she supposed by the way his facial muscles curved that he was amused by her reaction. He still kept a small distance away, out of respect or wariness, she didn't know. Boomer still kept his body between the two of them. "You have no such look of fear upon your face."

She smiled wryly, "If I was confronted with a fully armed Cruiser I'd probably flee like a bat out of hell, uh, I mean that I would run in the other direction." She amended, "But this is just…pretty."

The ridges above his eyes rose considerably, _"Pretty_?_"_

Gabby resisted the urge to slap her forehead, "That didn't come out right, what I meant was…it's non-threatening and beautiful, when I look at it, I don't feel afraid, I feel awed."

He nodded gracefully again, "That is good news. This is the first ship designed and built entirely by Sangheili hands, we wished for this carrier to seem non-threatening, part of a new generation of crafts, ones untouched by the scum _Prophets _and their blind followers."

"Whoever designed it was successful then." She put in thoughtfully, mildly wondering if any of these prophets had burst into flame considering how much hatred was in the word as he spat it out.

He sighed heavily, forcing his tone into a lighter one. "I shall inform the engineer of that, however I shall not mention you calling it 'pretty'. He will likely take offense."

She snorted, quirking a brow at him, "Is that a joke I hear?"

"Call it what you will." His eyes seemed less worn, brighter, as he replied. Getting away from the serious and tense atmosphere was good for him.

"In that case, I shall call it a joke, but a bad one, you need much improvement." She _tsked _exaggeratedly, shaking her head and hiding a smile. Her actions were rewarded with another faint chuckle.

"You are a strange human." He shook his head, huffing another barely-there chuckle.

This time she laughed, not holding back anything at all, "That was probably John's first conclusion about me to." She glanced at her wrist, checking the time, "Speaking of which, he's still an hour away…" hazel eyes flickered over to the small patio table and chairs under a tree, tucked away in the shade, and spotted the chess set still packed away in the plastic container, which had consequently protected it from any rain, thankfully.

"Would you care for some company while you wait?"

o**OO**o

The female was offering him, as the humans called it, an olive branch. One of the few terms he understood.

She seemed like a kind person, not a hint of deception in her eyes, and it was a relief to not have to dance around with his words or mannerisms. With the politicians and representatives he had to blanket everything with fastidiously chosen words, hiding his bitter feelings with politeness and overly complex speeches.

He engaged the cloaking device on the _Bringer of Peace _once more, in case any other companions of John's turned up. "I shall not turn your offer aside, thank you, Gabriel."

Her grin was amused, and the chuckle warm. None of the nervousness and fear he had seen before was present, Thel mused while thinking she had also placed a great deal of faith in the Spartans opinion of him. He had yet to decide if it was foolishness and naivety or faith and bravery that led her to becoming so unguarded around himself on only John's word. It was heartening to, that John held him in such high regard.

"Call me Gabby, Gabriel makes me feel old, well, older than what I am." She led him towards a small table, marked and worn by the weather.

He nodded his head once, "Very well…you may call me Thel, if you wish it."

She grinned genuinely, watching him curiously as he bent his legs and sat in the chair. After so many months of practice, Thel could easily contort his form to fit comfortably in human chairs. It was still an awkward fit though.

"Thel it is then," she began pulling out a black and white board from a clear box, unfolding it and going about setting out a number of small, carved pieces upon certain squares. "Does it mean anything, your name?"

He picked up a piece, one she named as a 'knight', twisting it in the light. "In my native tongue, it means nothing of significance. Though Thel was the name of one of my ancestors, who was known for his ferociousness in battle." He didn't speak of his surname, of the honor he lost when the 'ee' suffix was removed, it was not a topic he wished to discuss at the moment. He finally had a bit of peace, of relief.

"From some of the stories John has shared, it seems fitting." A grin pulled her lips up, and she flicked a few stray leaves and twigs from the table.

He chuckled again at her dry remark, accepting the humor in it with ease. Such lightness was like a gust of fresh wind over a burning battlefield, blowing away the smell of smoldering flesh and depleted plasma rounds. "Am I a common topic that you speak of?" He set the piece down and inspected another, a bishop, "What of your name? Does it hold any significance in your culture?" he asked, truly curious.

A low hum came from her throat, and she coughed lightly after that, but then she answered, "There are many, many different cultures that humans are part of, but my father was Christian, and in that religion, Gabriel is the angelic messenger, the bearer of joy, truth, justice and love, he who grants wisdom and interprets dreams." She snorted, something he had never seen a female human do, "Gabriel is actually a male angel, which is why I got people to call me Gabby when I was younger." She smiled cheekily then, "Drove my dad nuts, he always insisted calling me by my given name, saying "It's the name I gave you, so it's the name I will bloody well call you"."

"What of your last name? Edwards?" he said once her snickers had subsided.

She gazed at the piece in her hand thoughtfully, "I'm not sure what culture Edwards is from originally, but it basically means 'the guardian of prosperity and happiness'. I like to think that I am generally a happy person, so I suppose it fits." The rustle of cloth accompanied the shrug she gave, "Do last names hold the same significance to the Elites, or are they more important than simple names?"

He cursed mentally, "Names are power, status among the Sangheili." He said shortly, and she paused in her movements at the tone.

"Have I hit a sore spot?" Gabby said delicately.

"…not as sore as it used to be." The symbol of shame upon his chest did not burn at his soul as it used to, lessening over time. Being branded a traitor had wounded him deeply, but now it burned for different reasons. The scar was a constant reminder of the part he played in the slaughter of humanity, and the release of the Flood upon the universe.

"I'd offer you something to drink, but my fridge is about a kilometer away."

That startled a bemused grunt from him. Placing the chess piece back down, he took advantage of the new topic she had inadvertently offered him.

"_Or perhaps she did it on purpose…" _he pondered, seeing the way she tactfully kept her voice light and avoided staring at him for too long, giving him time to compose himself. This was only confirmed when she briefly made eye contact, the stormy sky colored eyes were gentle and kind in a way he hadn't seen in many years.

He took the second olive branch she offered with silent gratitude. "I have tasted many human beverages, some are…not to my tastes."

"Such as?"

Pressing the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully, Thel brought up the mental list he had compiled, "Several types of tea, coffee, beer, a disgusting beverage if I've ever had one, and some foul concoction called an energy drink."

By the time he had finished speaking, laughter was bubbling from the females throat. "Why did you try beer?"

"Sergeant Johnson offered me one, as a toast to my leaving the Covenant." Now that was an admirable human, brave and immensely loyal. Steadfast and reliable. It had been a terrible loss to the human forces when that _blasted _Spark had killed him. "He found my expression rather humorous."

After a few more sounds of amusement, she grinned, "It sounds like you don't like bitter drinks, try adding sugar to coffee and tea, iced tea is a bit sweeter, fresh lemonade might be nice." She leaned forward, placing a finger atop the tallest piece, one with a cross at its peak. "Now this, is the king piece, the objective of the game it to protect your own king, and capture mine."

Thel leaned closer as well, pleased when she didn't shy away like most humans.

The dog didn't growl either.

o**OO**o

Gabby had her serious face on.

Thel was not just good at strategy, he was _great_.

She was having the time of her life. This was challenging, more so than playing John. Even though he was good at ches, Thel just had a _knack_ for tactics, and considering that he was once a Fleetmaster, she could certainly see that his skills were just plain _awesome. _

Gabby put the thought that he had used those skills to kill thousands, if not millions, of humans, out of her mind. He had used them against the Covenant and Flood was well, so that was a small comfort.

A hand hovered over her only remaining bishop, fingers wiggling in the air as she hesitated. Pursing her lips, Gabby considered the pawns and the knight that would be able to break through her defense if she moved the bishop. Thels' white pieces stared at her tauntingly. The queen in particular had a sneer that would curdle milk.

She would really have to make John wash off the faces he drew on.

Finally, Gabby settled on pushing one of her pawns forward, purposefully creating a hole in the left side of her defense, hoping to draw his other knight or his queen away.

Thel saw through her ruse, she could tell by the approving nod he gave her.

"A good strategy, however…" he trailed off ominously, "It is not good enough."

He moved his bishop along the now free line, taking her queen.

"Check."

With her queen gone, the bishop would be able to take her king in the next move, if she couldn't stop him.

"Are you sure that you haven't played this before?" she joked lightly while furiously going over her options.

"The game matters not, so long as you know what your pieces are capable of, and have the ability to strategize, you have the chance to win." He said sagely.

"So, no?"

He grinned in the way Elites do, curving the corners of his mouth and slightly parting his mandibles. The fangs didn't bother her anymore. A few chuckles later and she had decided to sacrifice another pawn to delay the bishop, if only until the next round.

Maybe a miracle would drop by.

Three heads tilted, then turned towards the driveway.

Or perhaps, the miracle would drive up in a retired Warthog, she thought slyly.

The very familiar rumble of John's truck echoed up from the road, and seconds later, he pulled into the little cove. His attention was focused on the spot where Thels' ship was parked, with the cloak engaged. Even from meters away and with his back to her, she could tell that he was tense and alert, and his ability to detect that the ship was _there _even when invisible.

Gabby grinned and whistled lowly, drawing his attention.

John's head snapped over to them, and she waved cheekily, using the same hand to point out the Elite sitting calmly in the shade when he still seemed alarmed. The frown melted away into a surprised look, before a grin crinkled the corners of his eyes. He smoothly stepped from the truck and trotted over to them, the grin never diminishing.

"It's been a while, Spartan."

The grin stretched wider, "Too long, in my opinion."

Thel stood, and they clasped forearms.

"I see that you have met Gabby already." John peered curiously at the chess board, stepping closer and cocking a brow at her.

"Indeed I have, it has been interesting, to say the least."

John chuckled, eyes warm and happy. "It usually is, with Gabby."

She cleared her throat, "_Gabby_, is right here, I hope you two realize."

They both chuckled in their own way, Johns' low and warm, Thels' quiet and deep. Boomer stood from his calm but vigilant position and butted his head into Johns' hand. The man ruffled his fur while taking a closer look at the board.

"You are feeling better?" he watched her closely with quiet concern, taking in her still seated form and likely noting the faint husky edge her voice still had from the flu.

"Considering how icky I felt Thursday, I feel like I'm on cloud nine at the moment." Her eyes flickered to Thel, and she suppressed a giggle at his irritated expression, he really did hate slang. "I'm almost completely better, Mary said that so long as I didn't over-exert myself I was _allowed _to leave the bed."

He grinned, sliding one of her knights forward and taking Thels' king, knocking it over with a finger. Lurching forward, she stared intensely at the board, wondering how she had missed that. "Checkmate, and that's good to hear, although, I don't think she expected you to walk over here, speaking of which," he sidestepped, coming closer to her and allowing Thel to get a closer look at the finished game, "Is there something you needed me for?"

Gabby laughed softly to herself, "Not at the moment, no. I came over to stretch my legs and drop that off," a finger directed his attention towards the tupperware container sitting by his front door, "as a thank you for taking such good care of me."

Brown eyes flashed briefly to the container before meeting hers once more, "You did not need to do that, but thank you." He looked to Thel for a moment, "Would you both like to come inside?"

As tempting as it was to take him up on that offer, Gabby declined. "As much as I would like to sit down and have tea and biscuits with the both of you, I shall leave you two alone to catch up."

John's eyes silently thanked her, and she nodded mutely with a small smile.

She spied Thel watching their exchange with curious eyes, the orange flashing with a keen intelligence. Keeping her own curiosity at bay, Gabby stepped forward and slipped her arms around John's middle, giving him a friendly hug. "Thanks again, John." Her voice was soft as one arm curled around her shoulders and tightened as he returned the gesture. It was very tempting to just stay there, but…

Repressing a sigh, Gabby stepped away and offered her hand to an even more curious looking Thel. He politely took her hand and shook it again, nodding his head in that refined and elegant way. "It was good to meet you, Thel. I hope that we can have another game." She said while grinning, eyes flaring with challenge.

He chuckled, "I look forward to it. Until that time, Gabby, stay safe."

Waving goodbye to the both of them, the woman called Boomer to her side turned towards the road.

"_What a strange day this has been." _

o**OO**o

The two watched her walk away.

Thel cocked his head to the side, eyes flicking between the two humans with obvious inquisitiveness.

"I'm curious, how did she react when she met you?" John asked, voice light as he watched the sun brighten her blond locks.

Thel struggled to contain his amusement, "She did not recognize me, at first, and did seem rather afraid, her reaction was...memorable."

"Memorable?" he said slowly, questioningly.

"She fainted."

John seemed torn between amusement and sympathy.

"Once she realized who I was, she seemed less fearful, but it was _your _trust in me that truly put her at ease." He watched the Spartan closely, "Gabby has a great deal of faith in you, once I confirmed our friendship she let her guard down completely." Orange eyes stared distantly at the female as she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, "Not many humans are so kind to one of the Sangheili, let alone one with a reputation such as mine."

"Gabby is a little different from the human population, she had a few traits that separate her from the bulk."

"For which I am grateful." Thel thought about speaking up about the obvious connection between the two of them, about asking just what they were to each other. Among his people, physical contact like the embrace he had just seen was done only by mated couples and little ones to their sires. He decided to leave it be. "I am afraid that my visit is not entirely social." Some of the lightheartedness that had filled him in the last hour or so left, and the dreadfully familiar weight of his people firmly settled back on his shoulders.

John nodded resignedly, shaking his head with a sigh, "I have been keeping up with the news, things aren't going well." In a flash, the man before him became the steadfast Spartan that he had stood with against the Gravemind and his hordes of decaying minions. John stood tall, and his expression became serious and thoughtful, instead of the chilling blankness that he had seen when the warrior in him emerged. This was a new development, a merging of the stony Spartan and the warm human he had just witnessed.

"What can I do?"

The Arbiter stared at his king, reaching down and righting it.

"What can any of us do, against such immovable hatred?"

John crossed his arms over his chest, seeming even more impressive without the fearsome armor he was noted for when he made eye contact.

"Stand together."

Thel chuckled, almost sardonically, "How will such a tactic work?"

John craned his head back, gazing up at the sky. "There was a legend they told us in training, about our namesakes, the Spartans from centuries ago. They were a group of the greatest warriors alive, and once, to protect their kingdom, three hundred of their finest soldiers stood up against a million. Despite the odds, they lasted for days, before a traitor routed them." Brown eyes, hard and convicted, met his awed ones, "They lasted so long because they stood together, because they had a worthy reason to fight, to unite them against the opposing force. If three hundred can stand up to a million, then we _can _prevail."

He smiled then, staring at the righted king, "All we need, is a little luck."

o**O**oo**O**o

_Much love,_

_Razz _


	24. Chapter 23

_*hides from rampant MNiaS-deprived followers*_

_Sorry for not updating in *unintelligible mumble*…_

_Un-betaed, for the moment._

_Much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbor is a Spartan**

**Chapter 23**

Not long after Gabby disappeared, John invited Thel inside.

"I do apologize for not speaking with you before arriving, I did not expect any other visitors during this time of the day." Thel spoke while clicking his mandibles together in a curious manner as he took in the airy house. John led him through the somewhat cozy looking home after unlocking the door and hefting the container in one large hand.

"No harm done." John said easily, opening the container Gabby had left and sniffing the contents with a grin. She really did make good banana bread. "Hungry?" he held the container out to the Elite, offering a slice of the already cut up bread.

Dipping his head in thanks, he picked up a slice and broke a small section off, tossing it down his gullet after taking in the warm and fruity scent. He blinked twice at the flavor, a low and pleased hum following the second piece he ate. "Gabrielle said that this was banana bread, is the banana not one of the fruits your world grows?"

John nodded, mouth full.

"It is curious that you would blend fruit and bread with such success, such things are not possible with the fruits of Sangheilios."

"It has been attempted then?" He put forward, offering another slice and motioning for the both of them to sit. They settled in the opposing armchairs, the coffee table between them.

Thel grimaced. "Yes, and not with success."

He chuckled, "You've been the one to declare these attempts unsuccessful then?"

Huffing, the Elite eyed his smirk, "My youngest daughter often enjoyed inventing new recipes when she was still a youngling. Many were…not to my tastes." His eyes warmed with memories, and the faintest of smiles graced his face.

"How long has it been since you've seen them?"

Thel sighed waving away the third offering of bread, "Not since we stopped briefly on Sangheilios to resupply during the search for you and the construct. I speak with them on occasion, though."

Brown eyes watched him with quiet concern, "Do you miss them terribly?"

Thel's eyes flashed, and in those orange orbs John saw pain. He saw the bitterness and the weight of the burden he carried, he saw _everything_. The noble and powerful warrior turned stretched thin peace-keeper, the father who ached to see his family, the Elite who so desperately wanted peace and prosperity after centuries of battle and bloodshed.

"There are no words, Spartan, that can possibly describe how much I miss my family, my children. I have missed seeing them grow and mature while fighting in these blasted wars." Voice low and tense, the Elite seemed moments away from growling like a territorial dog.

John swallowed, adams apple bobbing, regretting bringing up something that left Thel looking so _raw_. He still missed the other Spartans dreadfully; a mark on his heart that could never fully heal was left by their absence. Even with Rene and Kirk returning soon, the Spartans he truly _ached _to see again were his blue team. Sam. Holly. Kelly. Linda. Fred. They had all been a part of his Blue Team, and now they were gone.

"Have you considered leaving for a short while? Taking leave and going home?" he said softly.

Thel's shoulders fell. His elbows rested upon his knees and he twined his hands together in a thoughtful but weary pose. "I cannot risk leaving for such an extended amount of time. Even if they were to meet me halfway it would take at least several days travel, which is unacceptable given the current situation with the alliance." A sigh, "Lee'ia suggested visiting Earth herself, but seeing how vicious the protestors are…I do not wish my child near such hatred. My kin were on the receiving end of many sharp tongues and cruel taunts after I was shamed by your success in destroying the first Halo ring. They will not face such prejudice again." He ended fiercely, fists clenching.

Staring at his own limp hands, John turned over the latest news reports in his mind, thinking over what he could possibly offer the worn Elite. "I do not know what I can do, but whatever you need, I promise to help."

The chuckle that Thel gave this time was somewhat amused, warmer. "Those of us who know you, know that you keep your promises." His back straightened, "I had hoped that you would offer such assistance. R'tas is becoming increasingly concerned for our brothers safety, both of us are troubled by the increasing vehemence the protestors, violence seems imminent. " he finished ominously, voice growling with pent up aggravation.

"Is that why there are no longer guards posted outside the embassy entrance?"

Thel dipped his head, helmet catching in the sunlight. "It merely seemed to taunt the humans further into their frenzy of hate when they were in sight."

John drummed the tips of his fingers together, lips pursing in thought. "A smart move, but I can't help but think that some people will interpret that as a sign that your people are isolating themselves and just want our resources but not our friendship, even though it really can't be helped considering the threats of physical harm."

Thel groaned softly, "That had not occurred to me." A clawed finger dug beneath the armor of his helmet as he massaged a spot above his eye, "Blast this ice we must tread across. Though this is not the most dire news that I bring, I'm afraid."

John's eyebrows rose to his hairline, "It's not?"

Light glinted from the ornate helmet as the Elite shook his head, "No. Those that still remain loyal to the old Covenant have demanded an audience with those of the Alliance. They have stated that they merely wish to establish boundaries of territory and neutral zones, however I worry over how the representatives of the human civilians shall conduct themselves." He growled. "Past experience has led me to believe that it will not end well. R'tas is already at his wits end. And I fear that with the Brutes mixed in that blood will be shed. The Brutes are not nearly as tolerant as we have been."

The Elite turned and faced him fully with an unwavering gaze, "This is truly why I have come to ask for your assistance, I would ask that you attend this meeting. You are respected amongst my people, and revered and feared amongst the others not of the Sol system. Your opinion will carry much weight, and should things get out of hand, you are well equipped to deal with it."

John hummed low in his throat, "Have you already spoken with Lord Hood about this?"

A hopeful light entered the orange eyes, "He has approved your involvement." Here, the Elite paused, "The Lord was reluctant to involve you considering your retirement, as was I, until these recent developments. It would mean a great deal, too many, if you would help."

A small grin pulled one side of his mouth up, "I promised to help, didn't I?" he chuckled at the Elites almost tangible relief, "When is the assembly?"

Thel leaned forward, "Two weeks from tomorrow, we shall be gone for a week, possibly longer. If you wish it, your armor will be sent here, so that you may keep your anonymity."

He nodded gratefully, but curiously formed a question, "Armor is a sign of respect and station with the Brutes as well?"

Thel's head dipped once, "Yes, though they do not take as much pride in their appearance as the Sangheili," he sniffed disdainfully, "Many below the station of Chieftain do not even bother with regular grooming or bathing, their fur reeks."

He smirked wryly, "I am already well aware of their stench. Firsthand experience, you know."

The Elite chuckled genuinely, the sound confidant and true. "I have encountered worse. The home world of the Grunts is an affront to the senses, specialized breathing equipment is needed if you wish to remain alive and not lose your sense of smell."

They both chuckled, just short of true laughter. John wasn't even sure if the Elite could summon true laughter. He didn't think that he could until Gabby had wheedled one out of him.

"So, tell me of your life here, Spartan. What have you been doing with yourself?"

John leant back, grinning.

o**OO**o

It was a busy week for John.

Rebuilding Rick's workshop was moving along at a reasonable, if slow, pace. John had learned a great deal from this experience, and would learn more still, but he still felt annoyance every time he so much as looked at the skeleton of the building. The police had gotten a partial finger print off of the whiskey bottle, but I was too incomplete to be considered evidence. Whoever had set the fire hadn't been stupid enough to drink from the bottle and leave any DNA behind.

Even with all of their advanced technology, criminals could still walk free if they were smart enough, or lucky enough, and that angered him a great deal.

Without any proper leads, the police weren't able to do anything else but question people, and that hadn't led to any suspects that they could detain.

John had a feeling that Quint was behind it, even though he'd had an alibi that checked out.

Sharp eyes were watching for the bastard. John would be able to tell if he had done it, body language gave away everything. His gut told him that the disgrace of an ex-marine had a part in the fire. His gut was never wrong.

Asides the situation with the fire, John had begun preparing for the assembly with the New Covenant and the Human-Elite Alliance. He watched the news every night and committed every action and speech that had to do with the Alliance to memory. He had taken to increasing his fitness regime and had cleared out one of the spare bedrooms, turning the disused space into a small gym of sorts.

Once the workshop was rebuilt, John intended to put his new skills to use and planned to rip up the carpet and lay down wooden flooring and re-paint the room. The cupboard and shelves could go as-well, there wasn't a use for them now and they were taking up space.

And Gabby wasn't sick at all anymore, which was a relief. In fact, she was healthy as ever, and had made many muffins and loafs of bread as a thank you for his help while she was sick.

Lastly, Admiral Hood had called, confirming that John would be attending the assembly, also showing his gratitude for John's willingness to participate.

John ruffled a towel through his hair as he stepped from the shower, another tied around his hips, glancing at the clock as he moved from bathroom to bedroom.

Thel would be stopping by shortly and dropping off his armor personally today while having a second meeting to prepare for the assembly.

Slipping his clothes on, John cleaned up before having a quick breakfast.

Minutes later, the low hum of _The Bringer of Peace _echoed in his ears. Grinning faintly, John stepped outside and watched as the air rippled and wavered over his front lawn. The air and space displaced by the small ship shimmered momentarily as it finally set down. The hum of the engines cut, and a door panel slid open.

Familiar silver armor glinted in the sunlight as Thel stepped out of the ship, a large container held in his clawed hands. That must be his armor.

Thel's feet thudded softly on the grass as he approached and set the load down, huffing out a chuckle as he straightened. "Your armor is heavier that mine, Spartan."

"Newer too."

Orange eyes flashed with good humor. "True, however-"

"_It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock and ro-oo-oooll!"_

Thel reared back in surprise while the man chuckled. Pulling his phone free of his pocket, brown eyes swept over the flashing screen before a thumb swept over the touchscreen's answer key. He held up a finger apologetically to the curious Elite, murmuring a warm hello the woman on the other end of the line.

Her tone was far less warm. Embarrassed would be a far more fitting description for her tone of voice.

"_Not to be all cliché and stuff, but could you help me out, my dashing Spartan friend?" _she asked, voice holding trace amounts of apprehension and mortification.

His brows pinched in a worried frown, "Of course, what's wrong?" Thel watched him attentively at the apparently serious phone call.

"_I'm kind of…stuck in a tree in the paddock beside my house."_

John blinked, feet carrying him towards her property already. Thel drifted beside him, a clawed finger hovering over the cloaking device. "Why are you stuck in a tree?"

She made an embarrassed noise, and he could tell she was blushing heavily. _"Well, you see…there was this snake…"_

o**OO**o

Gabby tapped her short nails against the bark of the tree, nervously waiting for John to arrive and save her from this truly _humiliating_ turn of events. Unwilling to move from her perch, she kept her denim covered legs wrapped firmly around the thankfully thick branch in a monkey-like hold, hooking her ankles together so that her feet didn't dangle.

Even though she was three meters above the ground, she felt like she would be dangling her feet above a crocodile in the water.

She just _knew _that even though he was concerned, John had been laughing at her in his own way. The faint waver in his voice after she told him of this…situation, were all the proof she needed.

Grumbling, Gabby glared down at the brown coil below her.

The little bastard had gone to sleep, she thought, continuing to glare at it.

Spiders, she could handle. Thousand pound horses, she could handle. Hell, once a centipede as long as her hand had crawled out of her shoe when she was camping and she'd barely batted an eye.

But snakes…

"Blech." She shuddered, gooseflesh pimpling her exposed skin.

Thank heavens Boomer had his lead on for once and was leashed by his kennel. Otherwise the Dane would have likely attacked the snake, and been bitten in the process.

Sighing, Gabby picked a leaf and peeled it apart as she waited.

When John arrived, she was pleased.

But she quickly became horrified. A distinctly _not human _figure was beside him, appearing out of thin air.

Thel was with him.

For a moment, just a moment, she tipped her head back to the sky and mouthed 'why me?'. Her first impression was terrible, and now her second was…well, this.

Pushing the self pity and mortification aside, she waved to get the attention of the two males in the distance. The outline of John raised its hand in reply, and they changed their course accordingly.

Eyeing the ground below again she blanched.

It had moved.

The sun warmed rock it had curled up on was devoid of the serpent now. Frantically, she searched for it.

A flicker of brown caught her eye to the left. Biting her lip, she strained to look further, stupidly letting her left hand take most of her weight.

The inevitable happened.

o**OO**o

They were maybe twenty yards away, John could make out the sun lit blond hair and blue jeans, when a shriek split the air.

The faint amusement he felt at the situation burst like a bubble.

Ignoring her warnings about the snake, he ran, dropping the burlap sack.

"I'm fine, I'm okay!" Gabby shouted when he called her name. The two skidded to a stop beneath her, Thel raising an eyebrow ridge at her position. "Hello, John. Thel." She said in a deceptively casual way, belying the muscle straining position she was now in.

Her legs and arms were wrapped tightly around the branch of the tree.

And she was hanging upside down.

"What happened?" John asked, already looking for footholds to scale the tree. He scowled when it appeared that none could take his considerable weight. "Are you hurt?"

Gabby's hazel eyes met his and she craned her head over her shoulder, smiling nervously. Adrenaline and fear had blown her pupils wide. "A few scrapes, but otherwise I'm fine." The color had drained from her face. "Watch out for the snake, he disappeared over there." She nodded in the direction it had apparently gone.

John jerked his fingers in a 'come here' gesture, burly arms ready to catch her. Thel moved off in search of the reptile. "Drop down, I'll catch you."

Gabby's lips turned down. "I'll be fine up here until you catch that snake, thank you very much."

The concern lingered, but his amusement returned. "You're struggling to hold on now." Gabby held on defiantly.

"_Stubborn as a Spartan." _He thought with fondness.

Thel's chuckle rumbled lowly enough that only John heard it.

Gabby frowned down at him, huffing out an embarrassed breath as red stained her cheeks. "We aren't all super-human soldiers." She grumbled, readjusting her grip.

Snorting, John held out his arms with an expectant look on his face. He was patient though, and refrained from commenting on the visible quiver in her muscles as they strained. Finally, she began unlocking her legs, but hesitated in going further.

Kindly, he spoke, "Do you trust me, Gabby?"

She froze, and tilted her gaze back to meet his. "Of course I do."

It warmed him, and his grin softened at the statement, before slipping into something mischievous.

"Prove it."

Thel laughed again, but this time Gabby heard him. A faint snarl curled her lips as she grumbled.

Finally, they traded looks, and this time John saw the trepidation leave, only to be replaced with determination at his challenge. And trust, of course.

Placing her entire weight solely on her arms, her legs swung down.

Then she let go.

o**OO**o

A muffled grunt was forced from her chest as she landed in the burly arms of her friend. The impact wasn't as hard as she thought it would be, and she relaxed slightly.

But only slightly, because he snake was still out there.

She could _feel _his amusement.

"Laugh if you must." She muttered from the safety of his arms.

The vibrations from his chuckle moved through her like the bass of deep music, and it was almost impossible not to smile as the delightful sound. He set her down, and she warily placed her feet on the ground, keeping a sharp eye for the snake.

Her hand trailed across his collarbone and up to his shoulder as she steadied herself, and he snatched the hand up, gently turning it over and inspecting the scrapes she had collected during her mad scramble up the tree and her near fall.

The brown eyes lost their happy light, that warm concern rippling in the brown pools once more. "Exactly what happened?"

It took her a moment to realize he had spoken, for the fingers holding her hand were so wonderfully soothing. "Sprite and Nickel were making a fuss, so I came over here to find out why and…found out why."

He still held her hand. Gabby didn't even notice when he plucked a splinter free. "And your first reaction was to climb a tree?"

She blew out a breath and said, "It seemed like the best idea at the time." Hazel eyes tracked over the ground repeatedly, warily looking of the reptile.

John took her other hand, and smiled as if to say "you silly girl". Callused fingers probed the slight abrasions, and she marveled at how gentle those rough hands could be. They feathered over her skin like the brush of a warm woolen blanket, rough but comforting. The thought of how much she enjoyed the simple contact had Gabby watching the contrast between the two hands as they smoothed over her abraded skin.

"Is this the creature you were so fearful of?"

Gabby was sure that the only reason John's hand wasn't broken in a dozen places right now was because of the Spartan enhancements, for her death grip on it was fearfully tight.

She swallowed carefully, eyeing the writhing serpentine body held firmly in Thel's hand. It was only a foot away from her_ face._

"_I'm going to climb back up in the damn tree."_

Sensing her horror, Thel's head cocked to the side and he stepped back.

"Do not. Let go. Of. Its. Head." She managed to get out through gritted teeth. "They're poisonous."

Thel studied the snake, and she noticed the similarities between the two. They had the same wicked eyes, slashed by that same pupil. She used to be terrified of both species. Now she was only terrified of one.

Oddly enough, it was the species from her own planet.

"I had assumed." Thel said with inquisitiveness. The snake hissed lowly, tail wrapping around an armored forearm. She blanched at the short but needle sharp fangs that speared from its pink mouth. "I can see why you are so afraid of this animal, but…" he spared a look for the tree and the notable scuff marks her shoes had made, "Your reaction seems…exaggerated."

Two pairs of eyes settled on her, and she sighed, forcing her hand to let go of Johns'.

Almost reluctantly, she spoke. Who'd have thought she'd be spilling her childhood trauma to an Elite. "When I was little I took my dog for a walk around the farm. We came across this big snake, a tiger, and Mixy protected me by attacking it. She died before we could get her help." Gabby forced one shoulder into a shrug, "I've been terrified ever since."

o**OO**o

Thel and John exchanged a look over the top of her head. The familiar wordless communication passed between them, one they so often used on the battlefield once their friendship had become established. "Perhaps you should face your fear." Thel rumbled, using his other hand to hold the body of the serpent. It's thin, brown and scaled body coiled around the appendage.

Its' forked tongue flickered out twice, tasting the air.

Gabby's startled gaze met Thel's serious sunset eyes. Her had twitched, as if she wanted to hold his again.

He would not mind if she did.

John cupped her shoulder, turning her slightly towards him. "You do not have to do it if you do not wish to, but…I believe that it would be good for you."

The woman's eyes swept between the human, the elite and the snake. "Not to sound petty and whiney, but _why_ do I have to touch it?"

"Facing ones fear is the one of the ultimate forms of courage." Thel spoke strongly with a voice he had used many times to raise the moral of troops during rough situations.

She made a face, nose scrunching up and eyebrows pinching, before taking a steadying breath and edging slightly closer to the writhing reptile.

Pride swelled in his chest as Gabby reached forward, only the faintest tremble evident. A step closer and then, and only for a second, did she hesitate. John squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

Her fingers touched the smooth looking scales, and she blew out a quiet breath. Fingers still trembling, but with a slowly emerging victorious smile, she traced the same patch of scales several times.

When she withdrew, John grinned wholeheartedly. Her grin was wide enough that her eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Well done, human. Not all are able to face their fear."

John simply smiled, then he retrieved empty grain sack (taken from the bed of her truck, as instructed) and held it open. Thel lowered the body of the snake inside, then quickly dropped its' head in to follow.

Twisting the opening several times, John tied the top half into a knot, making sure to hold the sack away from his person. Those fangs could jab through the tough material, no doubt.

"Now what?" He looked to Gabby.

Pursing her lips, she thoughtfully stared at the bag. "I can drive him away from the hill, towards the creek," she waved her hand in the general direction of the tree coated mountains and un-populated section of the valley, "and let him go there."

John quirked a brow, "Are you sure that you want to do that?"

"Not particularly, but killing him just because he chose the wrong rock to sleep on isn't fair…so off into the woods I go." She smiled at the both of them, "And thanks for the help."

"At least it was not I that had to catch you this time." Thel ribbed with a strange fluency. John thought back to the mentioning of the Elites' family, and concluded that perhaps Thel interacted with his children in this manner. It would explain the more tolerant and patient side that John was seeing at the moment. Thel would not have been so accommodating with a warrior or a grown Elite.

"Ha. Ha. No more banana bread for you then."

Orange eyes narrowed but were light with amusement, John had never seen him quite like this, it was surreal. "I had suspected that there was a hidden streak of cruelty beneath that smiling exterior of yours, human, but I never thought you would be so brutal." The jibe made her shoulders quake with laughter.

"More jokes? Perhaps I am not the only one with hidden talents, chuckles." Hazel eyes sparkled with humor, but when a high-pitched whiney echoed across the paddock they turned away.

Thel's neck stretched as he looked for the source of the noise, curiosity obvious. He had likely never seen a horse up close before. "What is that?" John could just see the two ponies in the far corner. It seemed that they were terrified of snakes too.

Gabby titled her head back up to Thel, a small smile still evident. "_They_ are Nickel and Sprite, two of my ponies."

"What are ponies?"

John kept a firm hand on the snake in the sack as they began walking. He was quite content to trail behind them as Gabby slipped into her teacher-mode. With a voice, low and steady, the blonde began talking about her horses, leading them closer to the frightened ponies until they were several meters away.

She stopped them, "I'm not sure how they will react to either of you at the moment, so wait here."

The ponies snorted and pawed at the ground nervously from their corner. Sprite tossed his head and whinnied nervously, dancing on the spot as she approached. John watched them closely, those hooves could do serious damage.

Gabby clucked her tongue several times and murmured nonsense in soothing tones. Their ears swiveled forward at the noise. With confidence, the woman walked right up to them until she was able to lay a hand on each of their noses.

John settled down once he saw the ease in which she calmed the ponies, and he mentally rolled his eyes at how protective he was being. Gabby was a grown woman and had been training these animals for years. She could handle herself. Yet still, the thought of her being harmed…

"You ride these…ponies?" Thel spoke quietly, unwilling to startle the creatures as John's troubled stare gazed at nothing in particular. "They seem rather small."

Gabby chuckled warmly. The ponies nuzzled at Gabby's hand and back as she turned to face them. "Ponies are mostly ridden by young children, horses are what adults ride, mostly."

She scratched at his neck before Sprite nickered and trotted off, Nickel following close behind. He watched them go, frown fading as he decided to sort out this over-protectiveness later.

"And horses are larger version of those two." Thel rumbled.

Gabby nodded, "Pretty much." With a faint grin, she spoke again, "Would you like to see a few of them."

John hid a smile as Thel visibly perked up. "I would, thank you, Gabrielle."

One blonde brow rose as she climbed over the fence swiftly, they followed suit. She did not comment on the formalization of her name. It was an Elite social custom, or so he had told her, that they address others by their full first name. Thel had honestly tried referring to her as 'Gabby', but found nick-names even stranger than colloquialisms.

He trailed slightly behind as they talked amiably. It was heartening that they found themselves in such easy company.

The bag shifted as the snake wriggled around. Of all the creatures in the universe to be afraid of, Gabby was scared of snakes.

Chuckling to himself, John followed the unlikely pair.

o**OO**o

Gabby was sure that wherever they were, her parents were laughing at her.

"No, Thel, your feet need to stay _in_ the stirrups."

She patiently waited until the Elite had his hoof awkwardly back in the stirrup before continuing. John was sitting on the thick log fence with a broad smile on his face, quite entertained. The sack with the snake in it was placed in the shade on her front porch. He would be fine for a few hours.

"Okay, back straight, hold the horn, and keep steady." She began walking, leading Jackson forward at a slow pace. Allowing Thel to find a rhythm in the horses' movements. "Feel how he moves and find a rhythm that you can fall into. Think of Jackson as an extension of your body, move together and fall in sync."

John raised his eyebrows at her eloquent little speech and gave her a small smirk from his spot leaning against the fence. She stuck out her tongue at him. All she was trying to do was repair some of the damage her first _and_ second impressions had done. Teaching an Elite to ride a horse was a new experience certainly, but she was damn well going to do it.

Yep, her parents were howling with laughter by now.

"This is a strange mode of transportation," Thel said from atop the black stallion, guardedly gripping the leather horn at the top of the saddle.

She grinned, "Horse riding is more of a novelty now days. There are some competitions, some people just love them as pets, but out on the farms horses are great work-buddies." A fond pat on the neck earned her a warm rumble from the impressive horse. "They're versatile, hardworking and good companions. Perfect for farm-work."

Thel listened attentively, and she noted that he had already found a decent rhythm. "Is that why you breed them?"

She shrugged and made a minor correction on the placement of his foot again. The stirrups weren't made for feet that shape, but he was managing well enough. "Partly. I've grown up with horses, I was pursuing a different occupation when…stuff happened and I had to come back to taking care of them. I wasn't able to let go, so I stuck with this life."

Sympathy was in Johns' eyes as she smiled wanly at him, knowing that he knew what "stuff" was.

Again, she shrugged. "I'm happy with this life, now, I think that you're ready to take it solo." She swiftly changed topic, holding the reins up in an offering. When relieved of the lead, she took a little step back and continued walking beside the horse and Elite. "Just remember, be gentle but firm. A small tug and he'll slow down or stop. Click your tongue…um," she blinked, "Just…make a clicking sound twice and give him a gentle nudge with your legs or knees and he'll go faster. Tug left to go left, tug right to go right. Don't go too fast yet, keep it to a trot for now."

At his nod, she left him to it and leant on the fence beside John, crossing her arms over her chest. Hazel eyes tracked every movement Thel made, she called out advice when he seemed befuddled by something, but the Elite did rather well. His grace already returning as the two became familiar with the other.

"The two of you are ridiculously fast learners." She murmured as Thel cautiously nudged Jackson into a steady trot. "I was a natural at this and it still took me a while to get the hang of."

A deep chuckle answered her. "It comes with the trade. Learn fast or die."

A snort, "That's a little morbid."

In the corner of her eye, she saw his hands clasp together. "That's the way it was."

She sighed, fingers drumming against her bicep. He sensed her unhappiness and untangled his hands long enough to gently tug on her ponytail. The sadness that always settled in her chest like a twenty pound weight when his hard life came up flew away on birds wings at the friendly action. Gabby tried to ignore it, but found herself reluctantly grinning when the tugs continued.

"You don't have to be sad for me." The hand left her hair only to settle over the back of her neck, fingertips settling over her pulse point. "I'm not."

Still troubled hazel eyes met warm brown, and she let her head fall forward with a low _humph. _John was quiet for a beat, but then he chuckled once.

Suddenly, she found herself pulled closer and pressed against his side. Something hard settled atop her head, his chin. "You are so stubborn." He huffed.

At this proximity, his deep tenor was even more pronounced. Rumbling like thunderclouds and crackling with lightening. It washed over her like a calming wave, normally. This time…

This time something was different.

As he held her close, Gabby felt something old and familiar but _strange _grow inside of her chest. "Lies and slander." The words were muffled by the thick muscle of his chest, but he heard it perfectly.

The laughter, deep and rich and warm in so many ways, made her breathless with her own throaty laugh. With a final chuckle, she pulled away, eyes happy. Equally cheerful eyes looked down at her. They were so close together that…it almost seemed as if…

"_As if __**what**__?" _she thought with surprise, not showing it outwardly as they parted completely. An image came to mind then, one that had her both excited and concerned. She rolled her eyes at herself then, getting worked up over a kiss that wouldn't have happened. _"I know that it has been awhile since I've been in a relationship, but I haven't gotten so excited over a possible kiss since I was a bloody teenager."_

Thoughts of a never-going-to-happen-moment were pushed to the side when she saw that had become of the Elite and horse.

"Oh, Jackson." She mumbled into her palm, hiding her amusement.

Thel had lost control of the horse, who was becoming more agitated by the second. Somehow, the Elite had gotten Jackson to walk backwards. To his credit, he was trying everything possible to correct his mistake.

Ears flat against his skull, Jackson wasn't sure what to do with all of the instructions Thel was giving him and ended up doing what he usually did when he was confused.

He stopped moving entirely and sulked.

Thel experimentally flicked the reins, but now the horse wasn't moving for anyone. "Your beast seems to have…broken."

Snickering, she walked over to the two and soothed the wounded pride of horse and rider.

"You're both new to each other," she pet the horse a few times and took the proffered reins as Thel dismounted. "You did well for a newbie though."

"It was an interesting experience; I imagine that humans rode these into battle centuries ago?"

The image of John riding Major came to mind, and she scratched Jacksons' nose affectionately. "Yes, they were vital to many battles and such for millennia."

Thels' nod had a sage air to it, "Before the Sangheili were assimilated by the Covenant and their technology was introduced we used the _Latrarr _in the same fashion." Slowly, he reached out and ran his hand up and down Jacksons' neck, allowing his talons to lightly scratch behind the horses ears. Jackson lowered his head and rumbled with pleasure. Thel smirked.

"What do they look like?"

His head cocked to the side, a low _hum _echoed from his throat. "They are smaller than your horse, but stronger." He grinned then, wickedly, "And they are also carnivorous. Fearsome creatures, but surprisingly docile if trained properly, _if_ they have imprinted on the master."

"Imprinted? Like a hatchling does to its mother?" She was talking about ducks, but doubted he would know what they were, and so left the reference open to interpretation. Many animals imprinted on their parents.

Dipping his head, he gave the horse a final pat. "They are still kept by some as guardians or companions. _Latrarr _are similar to dogs, in that sense."

"I would love to see one, or ride one." A sardonic smile crept over her face then, "It's bizarre how similar our races really are." He seemed startled for a moment, but then a pondering expression stole over him. Something like tired amusement came then.

He shook his head, "Perhaps that is why we quarrel so much even now."

"Yeah…" she saw John reflected in Jacksons' black eyes, "Perhaps."

o**O**oo**O**o

_I really must apologize for this disgustingly long wait, I had hoped to give you guys a double update as an offering to not kill me, but once this was done it didn't seem fair to keep it. _

_I do ask that you guys take into account that this is a __hobby__ for me. Course work, my job and family/friends take precedence over writing up new chapters for something I get hardly any profit out of, and as much as I love writing this story, I have to get good grades and earn money (hello braces!). I hope that you all can understand this, I know it sounds like excuses and whining (which it kind of is), but I just wanted to make things clear for old and new readers. I'm not lazy, I just have a full life._

_In addition, my laptop cable snapped (no cable, no charge) and since my battery is shit I didn't have time to find a USB and transfer everything onto another computer. I couldn't access anything for about three weeks._

_So, uh…feedback? *braces for hate and abuse*_


	25. Chapter 24

_This was...hard to write. So instead of making you all wait, I just decided to upload what I had written. It's shorter, but chock full of emotional stuff._

_I've bumped up the rating, just to be on the safe side considering the crackdown on the rules about ratings and such. I don't think that this story is in danger of being deleted..._

_Much love,_

_Razz._

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

**Chapter 24**

"Well...I thought you were big before but...well..._well._" Gabby was wide-eyed at the awesome and fairly intimidating sight before her. "God_damn_, John."

That summed it up nicely.

A warm chuckle, slightly distorted by the speakers in the helmet, echoed in the room. Armoured fingers reached up and with a hiss, the helmet unlocked. He grinned at her astonishment, and it calmed the unconscious part of her that was frightened by the sight of a faceless armoured giant in John's living room.

Cautiously, she approached, rapping her knuckles against the plates on his forearm. Her eyes remained glued to the lacerations over the left breast of his suit, and a minor shudder rippled down her spine. A brief chill followed. Other little chips and scars littered the armour like stars in the sky. But her eyes kept going back to the ravines carved on his chest.

Gabby was more than a little surprised to realise that her fingers, having grown a mind of their own, had risen and were tracing the battle-scar. Cheeks heating, she snatched her traitorous hand back and cleared her throat. The heat worsened when she realised John was watched her closely, curiously. "I'm going to miss you." She blurted. Her mouth had developed a mind of its own too, apparently.

He smiled then, and it was a warm and beautiful thing. "I won't be gone long." Then he put his helmet on her head.

Momentarily startled, she jumped about a foot in the air. Then she started laughing and placed her hands on her hips, striking a pose. "Can I work the Spartan look?"

The helmet, too large for her, sat on an angle, and she was quite sure that she looked ridiculous. John grinned and chuckled heartily. "Absolutely. You will strike fear into the hearts of many."

She snorted, "Lies and slander."

He removed the helmet and held it in the crook of his elbow, grin softening. "I'll miss you too, Gabby."

Blush returning, for some unknown and damnable reason, she awkwardly fiddled with her dishevelled hair. Her smile was brighter than the sun though. "I brought you something, for good luck. Two things, actually."

"Oh?" a brow rose.

She pulled a charm, worn but well cared for, from her pocket, running over it with her thumb. "This was my mom's lucky star." Gabby pressed it into his palm, closing his fingers around it. "Her mother, my grandmother, had a broach, and whenever she wore it to Bingo, she won. My mother wore it on her dogtags when she was deployed. I wore it whenever I had an exam." And she hadn't failed one.

He was rather touched by this, and seemed to be on the verge of returning something she valued so much, but he then pulled his own dogtags out and threaded the chain through the metal loop. The silver star clinked against the tags. A warm and giddy feeling spread through her body at his acceptance of her gift. "Thank you, for this. No doubt I'll need it."

"Which brings me to gift number two." Picking up the bottle from the coffee table, she held it out for him. "If all else fails, get them tipsy. People are far more agreeable when tipsy."

John took the bottle of wine with an amused laugh, reading the label. "This could certainly come in handy."

"Trust me," she said, "it will."

Silence reined then, and Gabby tried to think of something to prolong the inevitable goodbyes, but nothing came to mind. Even though he was needed by humanity again, she didn't want to see him go.

The unmistakable hum of _The Bringer of Peace _reached their ears, and she wrung her hands together. Thel was here to pick him up.

John picked his bag up and gave her his keys. She was going to water his plants while he was gone.

Gabby stared at the silver keys, unexpected feelings rising in her chest. Her fingers clenched around the keys until it became painful.

o**OO**o

John was surprised when Gabby flung her arms around him and, despite how uncomfortable the armour would have been, she embraced him, holding on so tight that he felt it right down to his bones. "Hurry home."

His arms, thick and plated closed in around her, and he bent his neck until his forehead was nestled against her hair. She had changed shampoo, her hair smelt like some kind of flower now. "As soon as I can."

The helmet and bag had fallen to the floor, but he didn't mind. "You'd better, or I'll kick your green ass." She mumbled, still pressed against him, voice strangely small despite the promise.

There was a knock on the door, and they parted. Her mouth opened, as if she were going to say something, but Gabby merely sighed and picked up his helmet. Thankfully, the wine bottle had been cushioned by his clothes in the bag.

There was something he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't form. With the bag in hand, he opened the door. Thel, in his inscribed silver armour, greeted him with a courteous nod. He blinked in surprise when Gabby followed him outside.

"Greetings, Gabriel."

Her smile was warm, if small. "Hi, Thel. Are you ready for today?"

"I am never ready to deal with the slipperiness of the Prophet's, nor their blind followers." He huffed, "This meeting will be a true test of my patience."

"I'm sure that you'll pull through fine," Gabby said, voice softer than usual, but no less assuring, "Take care," she handed John his helmet, "both of you."

The Elite met her stare squarely, seriously, before bending his neck gracefully in the Sangheili version of a respectful bow. John held her hazel gaze, and took the helmet back. He said nothing, for words didn't seem enough.

Gabby saw the unspoken promise in his eyes. Her smile broadened, and her eyes lit up like the countless stars he had seen.

With that, John put the helmet back on, the familiar HUD displays flickering to life. Through the link between his armour and the chip implant, he instructed the built in recorder to take a still shot of Gabby while she looked up at him.

"I'll see you soon."

"Don't forget, booze 'em up if they won't cooperate. Or drink it yourselves afterwards."

"Booze?" Thel asked, head canting to the side.

"Alcohol," John answered. Thel chuckled heartily and with a last farewell, he boarded _The_ _Bringer of Peace_. Moments later, the engines hummed to life, air billowing from underneath the craft and toying with Gabby's hair.

They were like strands of sunlight.

o**OO**o

Thel's fingers danced over the controls, light tracing his fingertips as the engines came to life. Readings on the engine output scrolled across one screen in both the human English and traditional Sangheili languages.

A minute passed, then the Spartan came up beside him. Silent as the ghost he was known to be.

"There is a good chance that one or more assassination attempts with occur during this summit." Thel said, knowing that it was better to have said it now, then in front of the other human.

"I've come prepared." The energy sword, a gift from Thel and a symbol of respect among the Elites, flashed into existence. The form of this sword was made to honour the Spartan namesake, and followed the shape of the swords the Spartans used millennia ago. Two shimmering feet of sky blue, several shades darker than his own energy sword, sat in John's hand. The pommel itself was an engraved silver handle with a small guard.

From the Arbiter's point of view, the gift had been a strategic and clever acknowledgment of the trust and comradeship between the two of them. A symbol and example for their peoples. John knew this, and understood. He also knew that Thel had the sword commissioned privately and used his own funds to pay for it, while also designing the blades shape himself.

The sword deactivated and John slid it into the available holster, where it was clearly visible to all. There was a glimmer of approval in the Elite's eyes. "So it seems."

Additional systems responded to Thels' commands, screens flooded with images and information. The screens linked to the external cameras held the Spartan's attention immediately. Gabriel stood on the porch, leaning against one of the support beams, as if she were too tired to take her entire weight.

Thel observed the both of them out of the corner of his eye, human interactions were so intriguing, when they weren't testing the limits of his sanity. The dynamics between these two humans though...John and Gabriel were fascinating on a whole new level.

They seemed so aware of each other, yet they seemed _unaware_ of this 'responsiveness' they each had for the other. It was almost as if they were a mated pair. _The Bringer of Peace _lifted steadily as Thel stifled the chuckles rumbling up his throat.

The Spartan watched the screens until his house was out of sight.

o**OO**o

Hazel eyes strained to follow the faintly shimmering shape of the craft until her eyes began to water. With a final sigh, she pushed off from the beam. Boots scuffed at the gravel, kicking small stones and pebbles as she moseyed on home.

That goodbye had been...strange. Feelings she hadn't experienced in years were swirling around inside of her like a flock of birds. Flying around her in tornados of confusion and making it hard to think and see clearly.

Giving a particularly vicious kick to a random rock, Gabby continued on home. Perhaps she should have kept the bottle of wine for herself.

o**OO**o

An hour zoomed by, in which John prepared himself to be immersed back into the life of a military icon and leader. The world needed the Chief, and they would damn well get him.

Over the past two weeks, Thel, Cortana and Hood had all been briefing him on the situation. The human and Elite representatives and select other would be holding a meeting before the embassy with the New Covenant. Hopefully, they would be able to show a united front when speaking with what remained of the Covenant. Weakness and division was not something the Alliance could afford to show.

Shouldering his bag, John braced himself for the landing. The brief shudder that ran through the hull of the ship and up his legs hardly phased him.

"Brace yourself, Spartan, the world of politics is more dangerous than any battle you have fought in." Thel intoned gravely, powering down the ship. "And immensely taxing on ones' patience."

The bay doors opened with a quiet hiss that echoed through the small ship, and the two males departed. A quartet of marines stood at attention by the exit, their at ease posture snapping into a crisp salute when they smoothly descended. Although, he noticed with a frown, the marines did not fully straighten and stand to attention until he had come into view.

With a low growl, he strode forward with straight back and powerful stride until he was walking right beside the Elite. People stopped and stared. A pair of gape-mouthed technicians crashed into each other, going down in a tangle of flailing limbs and curses.

A number of people snapped crisp salutes, those that did not do more that stare and whisper behind raised hands he assumed were civilians working at the base.

"Your inclusion in the summit was kept on a, I believe the term is, 'need to know' basis. For the time being, at any rate." Thel murmured, eyeing the still cursing pile of humans, "Admiral Hood wished to keep your arrival quiet, at the very least. Only he and a small number of others knew that you would be arriving today."

"I was lucky enough to be included in that number." A low and husky, but distinctly female voice, came from their left. She didn't meet his eyes through the visor, the slate grey was zeroed in on his nose. A common mistake that secretly amused him. "Master Chief, it is an honour to meet you."

She offered her hand with a barely warm smile. "I am June Kowalski, Diplomat Gillian's assistant." She nodded stiffly in Thels' direction, "Arbiter."

Thels' nod was far more graceful that the jerky motion she gave him, "Miss Kowalski."

Those slate grey eyes, cold and distant, returned to him, and the easy politeness was back. "Welcome to the New York airfields, if you'll follow me, we can board the Pelican and be on our way. Everyone else is waiting aboard."

As she led them through the airfield, John watched her interactions curiously. Her behaviour was the same with everyone, distant and cold, but always polite. She lacked warmth, making the slate grey eyes seem like frozen lakes. Icy. Hard.

She treated all, not just Thel and himself, with the same distance.

He missed Gabby's warmth already.

o**OO**o

"Which ship are we boarding?"

Thel looked away from the window at the back of the Pelican as the thrusters engaged, body swaying with the force created by the powerful engines. John held onto one of the handholds above the seats for stability. Kowalski held onto her harness in stony silence, a sweat dotting her brow. She looked faintly nauseous and studiously avoided looking at either of the windows.

He ignored her in favour of joining his friend by the hatch, watching the base, and eventually the continent beneath them become smaller and smaller. In minutes, John was seeing the Earth itself.

This little planet was the cradle of life for humanity, their Ark, their Eden. It was everything that kept them fighting. It was hope personified.

He would protect this little planet with everything he had.

"The _United Front_."

Pulled from his wonderings, John followed the Elite's finger. He had forgotten that he'd even asked a question.

"This is the first ship designed and built by both the humans and the Sangheili," he said with pride as John took in the majestic ship as it docked onto the space station. This station was a part of the planetary defence grid hovering over the Indian Ocean, between the top of Australia and the bottom of Papa New Guinea.

Stepping closer to the pilots nest, he gazed at the monolith structure. One of the stations had smaller repair ships zooming around it, and the third was barely a skeleton if what it used to be. Massive chunks were missing, but to his trained eye, and through his own experience fighting in identical stations, he judged that a bomb had not done the damage.

"The human crew insist on referring to the ship as a _she_, though." Thel shook his head as he came up beside him, apparently still bewildered by human customs even after all this time among them.

John huffed a laugh, "So you've managed to pull together a mixed race crew?"

"Indeed, Admiral Hood, R'tas and myself selected the crew personally. They have a great expectations resting on their shoulders." He sighed, "This will be the _United Fronts' _maiden voyage, and if all goes well, she and her crew will be a massive step forward. A symbol of unity and strength."

John studied him for a beat, easily realising that his eyes were guarded, his stance forcefully proud. Stiff. This was very different from the Elite whom Gabby had played chess with, that he had talked with and eaten banana bread with.

Perhaps her wine would come in handy.

A green armoured hand clapped Thels' shoulder, a gesture of support and comradeship. Thel looked at him, and nodded gratefully, the arch of his neck bending gracefully. John nodded in return.

The pilot, a chipper sounding young man, answered the stations'hail.

"Sir," the pilot craned his head around, "She would like to speak with you."

Although he no one could see it, John raised an eyebrow. "She?"

"_Always nice to be remembered, Chief." _

He laughed warmly, leaning over the pilots shoulder so that he could clearly see the small console which held a projector tablet. A blue, and very female, body flickered into existence.

"I could never forget you, Cortana." He smirked.

The hologram smirked in much the same manner. _"I like this new wit of yours, it's much better than the stony silence from way back when." _

"You haven't changed at all, I see." She really hadn't, he thought with a private smile. The same codes ran over her holofoms' body. The AI had not gotten bored with her hairs appearance yet and changed the style again.

Her synthesised laughter filled the Pelicans interior. _"See you aboard, Chief."_ The blue glow winked out, and the pilot skilfully manoeuvred the ship into the docking bay.

Sharp eyes picked up the people pottering about below. Engineers and pilots wore the typical jumpsuits, while marines and officers had the required uniforms. Someone, a drill sergeant by the looks of it, paced before three rows of stiff backed marines. Even from this distance, John could tell that he was yelling. They were either greenhorns, fresh on the station for their required space station training, or they had screwed up big time.

"Welcome to the _Freedoms Protection_, sirs, madam." The pilot spoke, swinging the Pelican around and descending into the designated landing zone with ease. "I hope you enjoyed your flight with UNSC airline, have a pleasant day."

John chuckled lowly, nodding in response. This day would be anything but pleasant.

Kowalski unbuckled herself and strode from the cabin, using precise and sharp movements to remove any wrinkles. Thel followed her out. He made to do the same, but the pilot stopped him with a tentative "_Sir_?"_._

Halting, he half turned, meeting the suddenly standing young mans' gaze. Gaining confidence, he stepped closer. "You've probably gotten sick of hearing this, but I just wanted to say thanks, for you know, pulling our asses out of the fire."

Even through both of his eyebrows climbed up his forehead at the phrasing, he couldn't help but grin, offering his hand after a moments consideration. "I've never been thanked quite like that before, pilot..?"

With a bright grin, he took his hand, shaking it vigorously, "Newman, sir."

They parted, and John left, but not before speaking a few more parting words, unwilling to forget the sacrifices of so many, "And Newman, I didn't do it alone."

His youthful face became grave, posture straightening with respect. "Of course, sir. No one could ever forget."

Boots clacked against the metal of the floor as he left with a parting nod.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Okay, I've discovered that I hate writing political crap. Haha. I prefer action and, surprisingly enough, drama/romance stuff. I hate drama movies too. I'm a paradox._

_Much love,_

_Razz_


	26. Chapter 25

_Hello, my lovelies!_

_I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but on my lonely continent we spell a few words differently. Examples being: neighbour/neighbor, metre/meter, synthesise/synthesize. _

_Enjoy!_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

**Chapter 25**

He still hated being on ships. Even after spending so much time living, fighting and surviving on stations, cruisers and battleships alike, John still disliked the feeling of artificial gravity under his feet. The lack of control over almost _everything _was frustrating beyond belief.

He huffed a small sigh, missing the smell of lavender and jacaranda, the crunch of gravel and dirt, the feel of a cool breeze on a hot day. Sterling Hill was home, and he missed it. He missed working in Ricks' store, the feel of wood under his fingers as it took shape. He missed waking up in his own bed. He missed Gabbys'...he missed _Gabby_.

John sighed again, staring out into the star filled but empty void. Hell. He missed Boomer.

Brown eyes shifted from the glittering expanse of space and locked onto the stiff back of Kowalski. Her heels clacked rhythmically against the metal floor, the sharp sounds quite different from the soft thumping of Thels' feet, or the dull metal thudding of his own MIJOLNIR footwear.

A small smirk curved his mouth, a chuckle almost rumbling from his chest. The sharpness of her heels was quite similar to the sharpness of her personality.

Swallowing the amusement, John followed Kowalski up to the bridge, mapping out the _United Front _as she led them through. From the outside, the ship was quite similar to the frigate _Forward Unto Dawn_ in shape, but the main body was easily the size, of not larger than a Marathon-class heavy cruiser. The addition of each 'wing' either side the main body made the ship look even more imposing. It almost seemed like they had simply attached two frigates to its sides.

It was surprising how human the ship looked from a distance, yet when seeing the ship from the airlock John could tell that the Sangheili had indeed been quite the influence.

Instead of been a variation of greys, looking like a patchwork quilt made from metal, the hull was smooth like the exteriors of Elite ships. Even his sharp eyes could not detect when one sheet of metal started, and the other began. The _United Front _was grey, but she almost seemed like liquid silver, unblemished and refined. Even though the designers had kept the blocky, square-like sections in the body design, the ship still managed to look sleek and graceful.

The inside held more Elite influence. The doors and airlocks had adopted the principle that the Covenant cruisers employed. They opened automatically, splitting apart and slipping away into the walls and ceiling.

John eyed the Elite additions with interest, "Did they integrate the weaponry as well?"

Orange eyes flicked towards him, and the corners of his mouth curved up slightly, a smirk by Elite standards. "Yes, the main weapons are the Magnetic Acceleration cannons, however the secondary armaments are plasma turrets. The smaller weaponry is a mix of both, and the humans refused to allow the Energy Projectors to be installed, though I can understand why." He grimaced, and Johns lips pressed together in a thin line, face grim.

Many human colony worlds had been hit by the focused energy matter weapons. 'Glassing' a conquered world was a heavy blow to the opposing force, and rendered the planets surface uninhabitable for a time. It would be years before a larger part of Africa was liveable again.

"Tell me more about the _United Front_." John said, forcing the memories of burning planets from his mind.

Thel gestured to a segment of the ship as they passed a window, "The ship, though whole now, is able to split into three parts, should the need arise."

John cocked a brow, unbelieving; there had never been a ship capable of such a thing.

Thel chuckled deeply, "I was quite sceptical when the proposals came through, but through the combination of our knowledge, it has been done."

"And quite splendidly, if I may say so." A voice as rasped from their left.

They did not stop, and the Elite, smaller and slimmer than Thel, fell in beside them. "Arbiter, Spartan." He intoned respectfully, bowing his head ever so slightly.

"Ah, Jal'teiss, your arrival is fortunate." Thel spoke, taking the offered data-pad from the smaller Elite. "Spartan, Jal'teiss is the lead Sangheili engineer for the _United Front_, your questions would receive better answers from he."

He observed this new Elite with interest, engineers, before the Elite defection from the Covenant, were not held in high regard. Much like assassins, their profession was not thought of as noble. The minimal armour covering his blue-hued frame reflected that. It was simple and a deep-toned green, with two lighter green sections upon the breast plate, likely an indication of his station amongst the engineers. He had no energy sword, only a plasma rifle attached to his hip. Instead of other weaponry, he seemed to have tools and another data-pad, one of obvious Elite design, hanging from his belt.

Red eyes met his through the visor with a guarded respect, and John nodded his head once. "If you don't mind answering a few questions, I would like to know more about the ship."

The Elite's mandibles clicked once, and he stood taller. "What did you wish to know, Spartan?"

Even though they couldn't see it, he grinned, "Everything."

o**OO**o

Head buzzing with new information, John eagerly ate up everything Jal'teiss had divulged about the ship in the small amount of time they had. Though the _United Front _had indeed been a majestic sight from the Pelican and onboard the station, hearing what she was capable of added to the magnificence of what she stood for. She held a crew of two hundred humans and twenty Elites at the moment, but was easily capable of housing well over a six hundred, a thousand if times were desperate.

The ship had been aptly named, she was a floating fortress, a brilliant combination of their knowledge and power. She was the _United Front_, in body, crew and equipment. She looked of human design, but was powered by repuslor engines and was equipped with slipspace drives, not fusion reactors or the Shaw-Fujikawa translight engines.

John held much respect for Jal'teiss and the other engineers that had created this child of their races, and he did not hold back in his compliments.

"She is indeed a beautiful creation, Jal'teiss, I have never been aboard a more grand vessel." A chuckle rumbled forward, "And that includes any Forerunner constructs I have had the _fortune _to come across."

The green-armoured Elite blinked, mandibles opening partially in surprise before snapping shut. "Your words honour myself and the others, Spartan, I will be sure to let them know of this."

John stifled another chuckle at the formality of his speech. The Elite then frowned in puzzlement, "If I may, I have a question of my own?"

A low _hum _of curiosity echoed from his throat, "Of course." He acknowledged.

"Why do you humans refer to the ship, all of your ships, as _she_? I do not understand why you assign genders to them."

John could not hold back his laughter this time, "Honestly, I don't know." Armoured shoulders lifted in a shrug, "It is just something that has been done for millennia. Some were actually named after famous or powerful people, but beyond that I can't be sure."

He smirked as Thel _harrumphed _ahead of them.

"Gentlemen, we are here." Kowalski's smooth, cool voice ended their conversation, and he was genuinely disappointed that it had. Learning about this ship was enlightening. "There was a delay with the civilian representatives Pelican, and they will be along shortly. We will depart after they have arrived." She faced him fully, waving a waiting Private over, "Chief, please leave your bag with Private Ottoman, he will leave it in your room." With a crisp nod, she gestured to the door before sharply turning on her heel and departing, shoes clacking down the hallway.

"Sir," the Private saluted, "Your room is on the third deck of the central ship, room D-106." John passed his bag over, quietly telling Ottoman that there was something breakable inside.

Straightening, John took a breath, and followed the Elites inside.

o**OO**o

All eyes turned their way as John and the two Elites stepped through the door. With a cursory sweep, John easily picked out half of the faces that he recognized. Two rear admirals, Jackson and Shepherd, spoke in low tones in a corner, both dipping their heads in greeting before returning to their conversation. They had met once briefly, in the impromptu war meeting before the Elite forces and the _Forward Unto Dawn _had departed through the portal for the Ark.

A dark skinned Captain, one who he did not know, chatted amicably with a pair of Elites, they wore silver armour, so he assumed they were Ship Masters or Special Operations Commanders. A second Captain, barely clearing the minimum height allowed by the UNSC, spoke with a two very familiar figures.

Admiral Hood and Ship Master Rtas eyes settled on them as soon as the door split open.

"Chief," Hood began, a small grin playing across his stern face, deepening the lines spreading from the corners of his eyes, "It is good to see you again, son."

John strode over with liquid strides and raised his arm in a crisp salute. Hood returned the gesture before offering his hand. They shook hands firmly.

"Likewise, sir."

Rtas rumbled a quiet welcome, speaking with Thel and Jal'teiss in their native tongue.

"I do apologize for calling you out of retirement for this, Chief." Hood stated, clasping his hands in the small of his back. John shook his head.

"That is not necessary, sir."

One grey and white brow rose slightly, but the Admiral continued on smoothly. "How was retirement treating you?"

John never thought that he would be having a conversation like this with Admiral Hood, one of the most respected and experienced commanders alive today. Before he knew it, they would be speaking of the weather.

"Interestingly, for the most part."

Hood chuckled, "I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

John laughed quietly as well, and a look of mild shock came over Hood's weathered face. The surprise was hidden well, but John still caught it, "I didn't, at first."

"Oh?" he said, intrigued.

"I've found myself working with carpentry, of late."

"Carpentry?"

"Surprising, isn't it?"

With a small smirk, he barked a laugh, "Quite. I assume that you've kept yourself in shape?"

"Naturally."

Hood levelled his gaze at John, meeting his eyes despite the golden visor. There was a heaviness in his eyes, the calculation and steadfastness of an Admiral that had dragged them through two consecutive wars and survived to tell the tale. "So if we were to find ourselves in need of a Spartan, we'll get one?"

John clasped his hands behind his back, shoulders broad and strong, "Most definitely, sir."

"That's good to hear." He seemed tired then, aged beyond his years, but still strong and proud. "Our intel had led us to believe that this assembly could end badly, there's a lot of bad blood, and it's all going to be in the same room."

Hood shook his head, "We're risking a lot going to this damn thing, but we cannot afford not to."

"We won't be alone, sir."

Hood cracked a sardonic grin, "Neither will the Brutes."

"But if worst comes to worst, sir, they don't have us." They were bathed in blue light as the bright glow of Cortana's holodeck flared to life, her chosen avatar crossing her arms and cocking her hip haughtily. "Welcome aboard, Chief. How's she looking?"

He grinned, "Looks like she packs one hell'ova punch."

Hood was obviously proud of the new ship, as a fierce spark lit up in his eyes, "Hopefully, we won't have to use the guns, no matter how many of us wish to see how they fare against the Brutes ships."

Cortana's coding raced over her form, a challenging smirk on her face, "They wouldn't stand a chance."

"Certainly not." Jal'teiss growled with pride, turning away from his own conversation at the mention of his design.

Rtas snapped his mandibles together, the broken side of his face a gory reminder of his past battles. "Hmph, they will burn if they make the wrong move, we will make sure of it."

"I hope that you are all going to this assembly with the intention of _avoiding _conflict."

They all turned, meeting the serious but amused stare of the short Captain Hood had been speaking with before. The sturdy woman smirked, and a round of chuckles swept through them.

The Elites returned to their conversation, and Hood introduced the two of them. "Chief, this is Captain Romada, should the _United Front _need to separate, she captains the East wing."

She offered a sharp salute, heels clicking together with a _clack_. John mimicked the gesture. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Chief." Her voice was husky, and her words rolled with a light Russian accent.

"Likewise, ma'm."

Further conversation was halted when Cortana spoke up, "Sirs and madams, the civilian representatives will be here momentarily."

Half of the persons in the room grimaced, one person even sighed. John cocked a brow as Hood gestured for them to be seated. Romada took the seat beside him as John cautiously sat down into the chair, thankfully, they were strong enough to hold his weight. She leaned slightly towards him, speaking low, "Arabella is alright, but the other two are complete assh-"

Her jaw clicked shut as the door _whoosed _open with a soft hiss and three people filed inside. The civilian representatives were here.

"Welcome aboard, gentlemen, madam." Hood said, standing and shaking each of their hands. "Have a seat. Cortana," the commanding tone of his voice carrying through the room, giving him a powerful presence, "What is our status?"

Her avatar turned towards him, "Systems are go, we're just waiting for your orders."

Hood reclaimed his seat at the head of the conference table, folding his hands together on the polished surface. "You have them."

"Yes, sir. Firing up the reactors now, disengaging from the _Freedom's Protection_ in three...two...one."

A dull clunk echoed through the ship as the airlocks shut and the clamps holding the ship steady in the docking port removed themselves from the ships belly and side. The thrusters kicked in, and the ship swung away from the station so smoothly that John could hardly feel the G-force generated by the upgraded engines.

All was quiet as the ship built up momentum, hurtling out of Earth's gravitational field completely until they were well out of orbit.

"Report, Cortana, how's she doing?"

Silence reigned as the AI brought up a three-dimensional schematic of the ship via the projector sitting in the centre of the table. She glowed green. "Perfectly, sir."

There was a collective sigh of relief from a majority of the people in the room. Jal'teiss had a victorious glimmer to his red eyes. Hood just closed his eyes for a moment.

"Activating the slipspace drive in three...two...one."

The ship lurched, and a second later Cortana was giving them the all clear.

With his enhanced hearing, John could faintly hear people cheering outside the conference room. The _United Front _was a success, and a huge leap forward for the Alliance.

"ETA at the neutral zone is twenty-three hours and forty-three minutes." Cortana's synthesised voice rang through the room.

"Good," Hood stated, and the briefing began.

o**OO**o

John took an immediate disliking to Nicholi Reynolds. The man wore a sleek, black suit and shoes that clicked like Kowalski's heels when he walked. He had a sharp jaw and bright green eyes, with brown hair that was slicked back. Nicholi held himself arrogantly, a small smirk seemingly to be permanently affixed to his mouth.

John could understand why he was here though. He owned the chain of companies that mined, refined and collected the raw materials used by the UNSC, and was also extremely intelligent, borderline genius. He was calculative, precise and determined to improve humanity's defences. The respect he held for anyone else in the room was non-existent, he held disdain for the Elite's, but understood the need for the Alliance. Nicholi was basically in charge of rebuilding destroyed cities and housing, and gathering the recourses needed to bolster their fleet.

Harold Ritbelli on the other hand, was a wizened man with a well-kept appearance. Tall, broad and fit, he seemed like a retired general, with the way he held himself. John was undecided on his opinion of the man, as he had remained silent save for a few comments. He was one of the higher-ups involved with regeneration projects and the growing of natural food resources. A vital part of this assembly could be determining territories, specifically viable farm worlds that would produce much needed supplies.

Arabella he liked. She was calm, but strong. Soft, blue eyes were framed by the dark shadow of make-up, and though she seemed like a person that would sit in the background, she was one of the most well-spoken and opinionated of the three of them. Dressed in a tailored suit, she sat proud and composed, often intervening when Nicholi's remarks verged on insulting or dangerous.

The woman was the head of biomedical innovation and healthcare, and she ran one of the largest hospitals on the planet after the war had ended.

John sat back during the debriefing, merely surveying the climate and forming opinions. He would need to speak with Thel and Cortana after the briefing.

As Hood began to wrap up, John noticed Nicholi gazing in his direction, eyes gleaming with intelligence. He turned his helmet so that the man would meet his visor fully, and though John disliked the other, he could respect that Nicholi did not flinch or look away.

"_Good," _John thought, _"He should do well in front of the Brutes. If he doesn't insult them into a frenzy first." _

John merely seemed to be acting as a presence here, and would likely be doing the same during the assembly. The appearance of the plague of the Covenant, the Demon, would hopefully be enough to discourage any violence from breaking out.

"We don't know what we will be walking into when we get there people, stay on your toes, and most importantly," Hood spoke, voice powerful and serious, "stand together. We are representing the Sangheili and Humanity, we must show them that our alliance is strong, and that we are not a force to be trifled with." He met each of their stares with solemn eyes.

Even Nicholi was without his customary smirk.

Hood stood, fingers splaying across the table surface, a strength in his stance that John recognised after fighting alongside him. "This isn't a fight that we can afford to lose." He straightened, hands clasping at the small of his back, "Dismissed."

o**OO**o

After the group dispersed, John meandered towards his assigned quarters, working his way through the ship with lazily powerful strides. He had no purpose at the current time, and took his time exploring this marvel of engineering.

There was plenty of time to kill, and the briefing had only eaten two hours.

Once he arrived at his quarters, John slipped inside and unpacked the few belongings he had brought. The thought of changing out of his armour raced through his mind, but he merely put the clothes into the provided drawers, nestling the bottle of wine amongst the material for safe-keeping.

His room was quite nice, a decent size with a large bed, a cupboard and a small desk and drawer set. There was even an adjoining bathroom. This was obviously a room for the higher ranking persons aboard.

"Cortana?" he called, knowing that she would respond to either his helmet or the intercom.

"_Bored already, Chief?_" her voice echoed from the receiver in his helmet.

He smirked, "Yes."

The AI chuckled, "_There is a gym the deck below, the Arbiter and Rtas are already there sparring._" There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, "_They are eager to test themselves against the infamous Spartan strength._"

A fierce grin broke across his face, "Excellent."

o**OO**o

A small group of humans sparred on one side of the expansive gym, while Rtas and Thel traded blows in an elegant dance of flashing armour and powerful lunges. A third elite, not Jal'tiess, but one in similar armour stood as their overseer.

John walked up to their mat, calm on the outside but thrilled on the inside. It had been too long since he'd had a good spar. The Elites grappled for a while longer, neither bettering the other, until the overseer called it a draw.

They parted, barely out of breath. "Spartan." They rumbled in unison.

"Eager for a, as the humans call it, _thrashing_?" Rtas's grin was savage, excited. He had never seen the Elite anything less than composed, but Thel's warnings of his lack of patience with diplomacy and negotiations flickered through his mind. John guessed that sparring after meetings was a common occurrence.

John chuckled as Thel gave Rtas an odd look, likely befuddled by the human phrasing, before shaking his head gracefully. With a respectful nod, Rtas left the mat, apparently more eager to see the infamous Demon fight the Arbiter instead of participating himself.

Rolling his shoulders, John glided onto the mat and slipped into a standard block or strike stance, knees bent and fists raised.

They circled, armoured feet whispering over the blue of the mat. Orange eyes waited, never ceasing their survey. Grin slipping, John felt the calm wash over him and revelled in the fighting mindset. Knowing that there was no other threat, he allowed his vision to tunnel and focus until all he could see was the other.

Finally, as if they were both given a mental signal, they ran at the other. Thel's leg swept out, and John leapt into the air and rolled over the limb with grace that bellied his size and weight. His feet had barely touched the ground when John was forced to bring his arm up to block an incoming fist.

Shoving the arm away, he brought his flat palm up and struck the centre of the Elites chest, only hard enough to knock him over, but Thel turned his move against him. Using the momentum provided, he fell back, curving his spine and using his arms to flip his body end over end.

Though he was surprised by the move, John was delighted by the challenge.

Thel was grinning, sunset eyes flashing as they circled again, toes dancing across the floor.

John mimicked the other briefly before stilling and relaxing into another stance. With a near feral grin of his own, he brought his hand up and twitched his fingers in a clear 'come get me' gesture.

"As you wish, Spartan." Thel said in a growl, and the real fight began.

o**OO**o

Sweat beaded on his brow as he panted. John parried a kick going for his kidney, bringing his own leg up to knock the Elite down. Thel dodged the kick, out of breath as John now, and jabbed a fist into his side.

Rolling to the side, he crouched and lashed out with an armoured foot, barely nicking the fast-acting Elite. Still moving, John carried the movement through, adjusting his hands so that he could swing the leg around again, but higher this time. His foot came up in a green arch, solidly meeting Thel's thigh.

Pushing up, John used the last of the momentum to swing up and dance out of reach.

The spar had gone on for easily an hour, and they had gathered quite a crowd. They 'oohed', 'aahed' and winced in sympathy at the appropriate times as the fight continued. Bets had been placed fifteen minutes in, and even the three Elites that had joined the group of humans were in on it.

Both John and Thel ignored them, solely focused on the spar.

They came at each other again, fists swinging and bodies twisting. They grappled, strength matching. Growling, Thel slipped out of the hold he'd had on him before gripping his forearm in a vice and literally throwing the Spartan over his shoulder.

John rolled into it, but still felt winded from the impact.

The crowd whooped and hollered, cheering on both of the combatants.

Knowing that this had gone on long enough, and realising that they both still needed to be in peak condition for the assembly, John nodded to himself.

The same conclusion rang through Thel's posture. They both grinned and charged once more, a final struggle for the winner. His blood roared, pulse racing a thunderous beat.

A fist met his shoulder, and he used the power in the hit to swing himself bodily around and strike out with his leg in a kick to the side. While still airborne, John crashed his heel into the shoulder pauldron on the Elites shoulder, making him stumble.

Thel recovered quickly though, diving to the side before ramming into Johns chest. What was almost a seven-hundred kilios of muscle and armour crashed into him. John jerked his leg up between them while they were still falling, and with a harsh cry, John sent the Elite flying overhead.

Thel grunted at the force of his landing, but stood nevertheless and seized John's arm in a final attempt to win as they wrestled again.

John almost laughed at the idea forming in his head, but went with it anyway.

Ignoring the pain but savouring the burn of well-used muscle, John yanked his arm out of Thel's grip and, for lack of a better word, hugged the Elite around the middle. With a grunt, John hauled him up and over his head, letting his own body fall back while Thel slammed down on the mat.

Letting his eyes fall shut, he gasped, chest heaving. He could hear Thel doing the same. Neither made to stand again.

"Draw?" John huffed out with a wild grin.

A breathy chuckle. "Agreed."

There was silence, eerie after so much noise, before the stunned crowd roared with approval, dismay and excitement.

They both lay on the floor, regaining their breath until John finally had the mind to haul himself up. Thel was already standing, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders. "Well met, Spartan."

Laughter booming, the crowd engulfed the both of them, swarming around their beaten bodies but pristine armour with excited smiles. John was on the receiving end of many claps on the back and shoulder as the crew threw compliments and congratulations at him heartily.

This was somewhat unexpected, but he quickly responded with nods and adrenaline roughed laughter. After the excitable crowd began to depart, John stretched out his limbs, grinning at the burn and ache of them.

"A fiercer fight, I haven't seen, Spartan." Rtas intoned, an awed respect in his steely gaze that hadn't been there before flashing as he clasped forearm with John. "I should like to spar you myself, one day."

Chortling, John tipped his helmet in agreement. "But not this day."

Thel eyed the last of the crowd as they chattered animatedly, voices full of glee and amazement palpable. Two elites garbed in the deep red of Major ranking bellowed laughter as they recounted other fierce spars to a group of marines, who listened with rapt attention. "Though not intended, I believe we may have improved relations between the crew."

Brown eyes also observed the group as they disappeared out the entrance. A soft _hum _leaving his throat. "Speaking of relations, what can you tell me about the civilian reps?"

Rtas harrumphed sourly, growling out an excuse before leaving them behind. Thel merely shook his head. "Too much, Spartan." He sighed, long and tired, "Come, we should speak in private, for such a conversation."

o**OO**o

Gabby sat on her back porch, idly flipping through a book. Though her eyes stared at the black words printed on the page, she did not read. Hazel eyes were glazed over as her thoughts ran deep.

The Great Dane at her feet snuffled in his sleep, leg twitching. The movement went ignored.

Gabby was confused, so confused that she had worked her way through a tumbler of whiskey this afternoon. A second glass was perched on the table beside the porch swing, untouched. The first glass was warm in her belly, doing nothing to alleviate the jumble of thoughts swirling around in her head like a hive of angry bees.

Sighing, she put the book down beside her, finger tips trailing over the faded material. That was where John sat, and sitting in the swing was strange, as it was not moving.

Sighing again, Gabby let her head fall back. The swing was not moving because John was the one who moved it.

Downing a mouthful of the amber coloured drink, and savouring the light burn, Gabby sprawled across the entire seat, swinging her feet up and resting them against the frame.

She missed him. He had only been gone for five days, but she missed John dearly.

Growling, she gnawed on her lip, trying the decipher _what the Hell _was going on with her.

This hadn't happened since...since...

Eyes widening, Gabby dug deep and thought about her actions, her feelings, and then she wiped a hand down her face.

Gabby had not felt this sort of loss, a lonely ache that left her wanting a specific persons company, since she had moved to Sydney a month ahead of her partner at the time.

"_Shit. Shit on a fucking stick on fire." _She cussed, unbelieving that something like this had gone unrealised for so long.

She had feelings for John.

A sardonic snort escaped her, Julie had been right. She like-_liked _John.

Groaning in frustration, Gabby stared at the porch roof as it could solve all of her problems. Which it couldn't.

"I need to make a phonecall." There was one person that could help her with this kind of delicate and puzzling situation. Rolling off the chair, she picked up her book and drink, and went inside.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Another chapter out of the way. Finally. And yes, there is a small time-skip in this last part with Gabby, but the next chapter will cover those few days with John._

_Thinking of holding a competition, if anyone is interested in making a cover image for the story, let me know! Still undecided on a prize, I am open to suggestions._

_Much love,_

_Razz_


	27. Chapter 26

**EDIT: OMG, there are some terrible spelling mistakes in this chapter! I didn't notice until some people pointed them out! I don't have time to fix them now, so please ignore them. I'M SO SORRY.**_  
_

_MNiaS is the highest reviewed Halo fic in the entire. Goddamn. Fandom. _

_..._

_Oh. My. Gawd._

_When this was pointed out to me, I just...there aren't enough words to express the gratitude and excitement. There was squealing and lots of arm flailing and there may have been some jumping too. From the bottom of my heart, you guys, thank you. THANK YOU! For someone who is studying and dreaming to become a published author one day, this is a massive boost to my confidence._

_There is so much love. So many feels._

_I LOVE YOU ALL!_

_Much much much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

_Chapter 26_

The next day was a blur of conversation and exploration for John. After a long discussion with Thel, he and the Elite parted ways for several hours. John, still rather curious about the _United Front _explored the ship. Mapping out weak points, choke points and defensible positions, should the occasion arise, John made notes with Cortana via the helmets internal communications.

There was a constant stream of information from the AI, the synthetic voice a pleasant hum in his ear. But there was a voice he sorely missed, despite being reunited with his comrades and friends. It was low and could almost be considered husky, but smooth and almost always light with amusement or laughter.

Responding to the mental command, the HUD across his visor brought up a small image of Gabby in the top right hand corner. He smiled, fingers trailing across the railing of the walkway he was ambling across with lazily powerful strides. If he closed his eyes, John could imagine arms around his neck again, the strength of her affection crushing the MJOLNIR armour with its weight. The scent of summer warmed him inside and out, the sweetness of jacaranda and bottlebrush flowers, the mustiness of earth and the artificial smell of Gabby's shampoo.

His eyes had closed, and John almost felt that if he opened them, they would find strands of sunlight wafting through the air, framing the hazel eyes, so bright with their blue flecks and laughter. He would see that smile, that fond curl of the lips that was always so quick to appear.

Dammit, he _missed _her.

"_Chief? Hello?"_

Opening his eyes to the empty space before him, John rumbled a small acknowledging hum. "Yes, Cortana?"

There was concern beneath the humour as she replied, _"Maybe all this time off has softened you up, Chief, you've never zoned out like that before."_

A second image appeared, this one in the top left hand corner of the HUD. It was of Cortana, from the shoulders up. The blue avatar smirked slyly. "My apologies, I was...distracted."

She snorted, "_Really? I couldn't tell." _

John huffed a chuckle, moving towards a window and peering outside curiously. Their final approach to the neutral planet would not be done via the slipspace drives, but the sublight engines.

"_Does your 'distraction'-" _she brought her hands into view, fingers twitching into quotations, _"-have to do with this picture?" _

The AI 'looked' over at the image of Gabby, grinning coyly. John sighed, leaning against the wall, visor aimed at the glittering void but eyes focused inwards. "Perhaps."

"_Oh, John, you can't lie to me, I can read your suits monitoring system, remember_?" the tease was friendly, and she was rewarded with a small smirk from him. "_Spill it, Spartan."_

Her tone was strong, encouraging, like it was all those months ago on the Halo ring as it destroyed itself. "I miss her, that's all."

"_That's _all_?" _the coding running over her face sped up for a moment, matching the incredulous tone, _"I have never seen you so unfocused like that before, John...what's going on?" _There was no humour in the synthetic voice this time, just concern.

The sigh was longer this time, and he crossed his arms over his chest, knowing the posture was imposing and would hopefully ward off the nervous looking technicians eyeing him from across the room. Thank heavens the speakers were turned off and no sound was escaping his helmet at the moment.

"I really do miss Gabby, but exactly how much I miss her is...odd."John finally spoke, finding the words not nearly enough to describe the jumble of thoughts. "It's not like after I lost the others," by others, John meant his fellow Spartans, and she knew that, "This is different."

"_Different how?" _she ventured cautiously, 'looking' at the image of Gabby again.

A low growl was her answer, "I don't know _how_, I just know that it _is._"

John glared forlornly at nothing, wishing that he could just understand this...this..._mess _swirling around in his head and gut.

"_I'm sorry, John, all I can offer you is information on psychology that might help, but I doubt it will." _Her tone was truly apologetic, and despite the inner whirlwind, he smiled.

"Thank you for your effort, Cortana."

"_Anytime, Chief."_ The AI said quietly, image winking out._ "Admiral Hood wants you on the command deck, asap, we'll arrive within the hour."_

John murmured a reply, unfolding his arms and heading for the elevator.

o**OO**o

The Command Deck was the central hub of activity on the ship, and John peered around with interest as he strode inside. The layout of the room was done in the traditional manner all human ships carried, as was the command decks location on the ship, but the consoles were of the elegant design Elite ships used. Panels and screens lined the walls for personnel on duty, and were made of the solidified holograms that were seemingly created from light.

In the centre of the room was a large hologram generator, and currently, it had an image of the ships location in this system. A cursory glance told John that the planet they were destined for was easily twice the size of Earth, and had two moons, both uninhabitable. It was mostly a water world, with two thinly connected landmasses that barely covered eight percent of the planet's surface.

"Spartan 117, reporting as ordered, sir." John saluted crisply, standing before Admiral Hood.

"At ease, Chief." Hood nodded, tilting his head towards the display. "Update us, Cortana."

Avatar appearing above the holodeck by the head of the display table, the AI frowned at the image. _"We're still forty minutes and twenty-three seconds out, but our scanners haven't picked up any sign of Covenant ships."_

Thel and R'tas entered then, both striding gracefully with quiet footsteps, joining them by the display. The light from the holodesk added an eerie glow to R'tas mangled jaw, and cast strange shadows across Thel's inscribed armour. "We are early, are we not?" Thel rumbled. "By a day, at least."

Hood dipped his head once. "Are there any abnormalities, Cortana?"

Precisely three seconds passed before the AI replied._ "None. A pressure system is moving up from the southern pole and heading for the LZ, nothing unusual about it, and I doubt it will cause us any trouble."_

"Good. Notify me of any changes, no matter how small."

"_Yes, sir."_

"Does this planet hold any significance with the Covenant?" Hood asked both Thel and R'tas. The Elites shook their heads dismissively.

"It is useless for anything but these assemblies. The water is undrinkable without lengthy sterilization due to a waterborne parasite, and the landmass provides nothing of substance, therefore the Profits deemed it unworthy of colonisation." R'tas _harrumphed_, "It's nothing more than an ocean with an island."

"And this is why it was agreed upon to be the neutral world. There is no established colony and it holds no value." Thel finished.

"Any native fauna or flora that we should keep an eye out for?"

Again, the Elites gave the negative. "There are animals similar to the...mon-kees of your world, they can be crafty, and several venomous creatures, but they should all be in hibernation during this cycle. The plants will give us no trouble, so long as they are not eaten."

John smiled briefly at Thel's odd phrasing of 'monkeys'.

Hood's eyes were shadowed by the brim of his hat, the golden bars of his station proudly shown, but it was easy to see scrutinising light to them. He stared without looking at a spot on the floor. Not pensive, but calculating. "What's your take on this, Chief?" He asked finally, tipping his head back up.

Almost reflexively, John's eyes swept back over the image of the planet. "I would like to take a team and scout the area, sir."

"My thoughts exactly. Permission granted." The admiral said immediately, approval evident. "Cortana, prep teams Alfa and Omega. Deploying ten minutes after our ETA."

The AI flickered, the codes on her form hastening as she carried the orders out. "Teams are gearing up now, sir." She said a minute later.

"Good, Chief, you're leading the teams. Arbiter," Hood met the steady orange gaze, "I'd like you on the ground as well. Your experience with this world and the Covenant will give the ground teams an edge if there are any traps."

The silver inscribed helmet glinted ethereality in the blue glow of the projections on the holodesk and Cortana's glowing image. "Of course."

The easy agreement was seamless, and John guessed that Thel would have insisted to come along anyway.

"Excellent," Hood clasped his hands at the small of his back, "Good luck, people."

"_Luck_," Cortana began, grinning in that cocky manner of hers and sharing a look with John that had him smothering a chuckle, _"Is something we haven't been in short supply of, sir."_

She always called him the lucky one. Not the strongest, or swiftest. Not the fasted or most intelligent. But the luckiest. And there were times when John had certainly not felt like the lucky one, but lately, he was certainly coming to understand Cortana's assessment of him.

Hood was smiling, the smallest smirk really, and huffed twice in a stifled chuckle. "I suppose that you would like to go down as well?"

The AI's grin was bright, and it was hard to call her something-less-than human, because she was so eccentric and witty. That spark of humour made her so human to John, and likely to a fair few others that had been given the delight of working with her. He was grateful that she had managed to find the solution to the far-too-short life expectancy of AI's within the first Halo array they had come across.

Of course, she had only discovered that coding after several months of cataloguing and processing every scrap of information she had downloaded that day. The time and processing power needed had not been available until that horrible time when the two of them had been drifting in space, with John frozen in cryo, inside the severed half of the _Forward Unto Dawn_.

She had the lifespan of fifty, possibly seventy years now. And this code was spread amongst the other smart AI's. The advantages were phenomenal, especially when it meant that AI's could now be installed into hospitals or educational facilities. It was a feasible idea now. Instead of creating new AI's every five or so years, one hospital could have an AI that latest fifty years, and not just a VI that could run the computer systems and monitor patients vitals, but AI's that could actively observe and interact with patients, and assist in surgeries with machines that needed mechanical precision.

This wasn't even factoring in the benefits to the UNSC fleets.

Yes, luck was a fickle thing at times, but brilliant when it found them.

o**OO**o

"_It's like coming home."_

John grinned, welcoming the cold seeping through his skull as Cortana integrated with his suit and chip. It was almost like coming home for John too, but his real home was on a hill back in the Australian countryside. The suit, his armour, the chill in his head, it was still like a home, only a home away from home.

Cortana remained in constant contact with the _United Front,_ and had left subroutines behind to run the ship should the worst happen and the crew had to abandon ship, or were killed.

"_I'll be honest with you, Chief, I've really missed going out into the field."_

John chuckled quietly, saluting Admiral Hood as he dismissed them with a final nod. Thel fell into step beside him, and they made their way to the flight deck where their teams were assembling.

He became serious then, "Should I address you formally during the assembly?" John asked Thel.

The Elite clicked his mandibles once. "I believe that you should, though many see the informal nature as friendship, the Brutes will see it as disrespect between the factions. Their hierarchy is quite structured, and those of station are always addressed with their proper title."

He nodded, and Cortana chimed in. _"We don't know much, anything really, about which representatives they'll be sending out. We aren't even sure if the other races will be represented during the assembly."_

"It can't be likely," Thel put in, having heard the AI thanks to her tapping into his communications link. "The other races are looked down upon by the Brutes, the Hunters...we aren't even sure if they are still with the Covenant. Some defected alongside us, but they were killed during the battle with the Flood." Thel murmured lowly, his discomfort with the lack of knowledge well hidden, but still picked up by John. "Tarterus was the Chieftain, but whomever took his place is a mystery."

"_Culture dictates that the leaders of each Pack fight to the death for the right to be Chieftain, right?" _The AI asked with curiosity.

"For the most part, during wartime it would be a fight to submission." He corrected mildly.

At least there were some leashes upon that barbarity, John thought, also secretly uncomfortable that they were basically going into this assembly blind. If it had just been war veterans and experienced personnel participating in the meeting, he would not have been so tense, but with three very important _civilians _involved...

That just made him on edge.

o**OO**o

Thel and John came to a stop before the assembled teams as they calmly stood at attention.

Brown eyes skipped from member to member with scrutiny as Cortana opened up the private channel between Thel and he again. _"These are the two new mixed teams,_" she said, bringing up names in his heads up display. The lettering glowed green, showing that they were confirmed friendlies. "_They all volunteered to be a part of Alfa and Omega, and have been training together for two months now."_

There were two elites and three humans in each squad. Team leaders had yet to be determined, and for now, John and Thel would be in command. The Elite members were low in the ranking scheme, their armour shone blue and bright, all except one. John's eyes zeroed in on the smaller and slimmer Elite clad in deep purple armour as he...no, he realised with a start. It was not a _he,_ but a _she. _

The Elite was no less proud than the others, despite the obvious disadvantage she had considering her smaller stature and body mass. This was the first female Sangheili John had ever seen, that likely any human had ever seen, as they never left Sangheilios. From what John understood, Elite females were trained in combat extensively, but remained on the home world to tend to children and the home, and to also act as a last line of defence should the worst befall their world.

The name Cortana had supplied was Mia'tee, and she was easily an inch shorter than John with his armour off. Which was weird. He had never met an Elite shorter than he. The body structure was similar to Elite males, except for the large flare in her hips, slimmer physique and more pronounced ridges above the eyes. Those ridges were sharper, more defined like a vipers, which made her bright red eyes seem all the more dangerous.

What was most curious though, were the two vividly green stripes sweeping under her eyes. It added a distinctly feminine but fierce frame to those bloody orbs.

"_You weren't the only one taken by surprise when she came aboard_." Cortana synthesised voice had a distinct lit of laughter. "_Admiral Hood wants you to observe these guys while you're out in the field. As a team, they're greenhorns."_

He blinked, the only outward sign of his surprise. "They have never been tested before?"

"_Outside of training fields, no."_

"But they do have a degree of experience, at least?"

"_Of course. They all have, at the very least, three years of service under their belts, but they are all young."_

The knowledge that they all had experience gave him some relief, and he surveyed the others now that his curiosity was partially stated. The only other female was Lieutenant Stevenson. She had a hard but respectful gaze, one eye slashed through with a thin, silver line. It looked deep enough that the eye itself was probably a cloned organ, the original would have been damaged beyond repair.

The other human members were indeed young, each appearing no older than thirty at the most.

"_Let's see what they've got, Chief."_

John grinned shortly at the AI's eagerness, feeling the weight of the rifle affixed to his back. While John had been observing the teams, Thel had been talking. A brief outline of what they would come across on the ground, with a warning to be overly cautious due to the nature of this mission.

John stepped forward as Thel stepped back. He made an effort to move his helmet and not remain still. "We aren't expecting trouble, but remain cautious. I'm sure you know what's at stake." He kept it short and sweet, not wanting to go on like some leaders tended to. He wasn't one for talking anyway. "I'll be leading, Arbiter will be second in command. Cortana?"

At the prompting, the AI opened up a connection with all of their earpieces. _"I'll be monitoring the area with Chiefs suit and your equipment, but if you see anything suspicious speak up."_

When it was clear that she was finished, John spoke up. "Any questions?"

The red-headed man, George Fender, raised his hand, "Sir, what are our orders should we meet up with unfriendly, or unexpected, forces?"

"Do not attack without provocation. Avoid conflict at all costs. If they fire, aim to debilitate, unless you have no other choice. Brutes are the exception, shoot to kill if they attack." He answered succinctly.

"_Scanners have not picked up any other ships or unusual activity."_ Cortana added, _"Disembarking in twenty, all aboard."_

Their ride was a good ol' Pelican. Tried and true, her battle scars said. The pilot was a grizzly looking man with a nose as crooked as a road sign after a car had ploughed over it. Flight Lt. Pops, as he introduced himself, spared them a respectful nod and a confidant grin before returning to his pre-flight checks.

"_He'll be landing and staying put in case we need a fast evac. I advise that two be left behind as guards, just in case."_

John hummed softly in agreement, fighting a smile as the Elite males awkwardly bent themselves into the human chairs. Mia'tee had an easier time fitting herself into the chair. With a mental command, the external speakers were cut off. "Who do you think needs a test in patience?"

Cortana answered immediately, _"Arbiter would like for Geelet to remain behind. He's good with strategy on the go, but impulsive and reckless sometimes. He needs to learn the art of silence and serenity."_ She laughed lightly, "_Or so Thel said."_

"Alright then." He agreed easily, eyeing out one of the humans that was bouncing his leg up and down while they waited. "Haze seems restless, what's his record?"

"_He's the youngest of the bunch and has the least experience, but he's smart and damn fast. Excels with hand to hand combat and is known as 'Sparks' for his skill with machinery. He's just a nervous flier, fidgets before take-off."_ She explained. And just as she said that Haze began fiddling with his dog-tags. John could understand, Fred had been a figiter as well. Always flipping and spinning that knife of his.

A soft smile pull his scarred lips up, eyes distant with fond nostalgia. Even though this wasn't the time or place to lose himself, John allowed the memoires to wash over him for just a moment.

Then he let them fade, and it didn't hurt as much to remember them anymore. Perhaps that was because he had a brother and sister coming back to him, or maybe it was because he had friends, a new family, in that little town.

He returned to himself, the importance of this mission settling upon his broad shoulders with a familiar weight. "Who would you recommend then? I assume that you've gone over their files?"

A snort echoed in his helmet, and John rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her reaction. _"I recommend that Yanks be the second guard. He's eager to prove himself, but that enthusiasm has made him headstrong, rash sometimes. He needs to learn that taking out as many enemies as possible isn't always the right way to go about things_."

A thought that had been gnawing at his mind for the past few minutes finally chewed its way out of his mouth. "Why do these teams have such inexperienced members?" he finally asked. "Surely there are more qualified people available?"

"_Those that are more qualified, are so because they spent most of their time fighting the Covenant, while the Elites were still a part of it."_ She began with a sigh, "_Stevenson is the oldest at twenty-nine, and she served for five years, on Earth. The only reason she can even stand to work with Elites is because Ulys saved her life when the flood invaded. None of them have spent years killing Elites."_

John spared a look for the grey-toned elite with gleaming yellow eyes. He was slightly shorter than Thel, but had more muscle to his figure. The calm air surrounding him and the serene light in those cat-like eyes had John believing that this Elite was fairly experienced, despite his rank. "What's his record?"

"_Seven years of service in active warfare, unremarkable for the most part, above average strength and skill with heavy weaponry."_

"He's quiet, very calm."

"_I said unremarkable, didn't I?"_

He snorted, unremarkable didn't always mean 'bad'. "How'd he save Stevenson?"

"_She was cornered in a building, last of her squad and out of ammo. By the time Ulys found her she was fending off Infection Flood forms with a plank of wood. Killed them off and pulled her out. They stuck together until the battle was over."_

"Do they get along outside of battle?"

"_I wouldn't say they were friends, but comrades. They're sociable enough and fight well together. They were the first contacted with the proposed mixed teams, said yes right off the bat."_

John would have to go over their files in more detail when they came back, but while they waited, he got a brief sum up of each member from Cortana. In the end, he discovered that each Sangheili member had been chosen by Thel himself, with careful consideration to their past records and involvement with the war. Each of the Elites had aided the humans on Earth and flown through the portal to combat Truth and his fleet.

The humans had been recommended by their various commanders to Hood, who then confirmed the selections and allowed the commanders to send out the requests for volunteers.

The amount of positive responses had been discouraging.

Working together on a ship was one thing, working together in a squad, putting your life in the hands of a being whom had been part of the opposing force only a year ago, was a whole other ball park.

That, if nothing else, made John respect these soldiers. They were young, for the most part-Stevenson was almost thirty, and still had much to learn. But they were symbol, much like the _United Front. _John doubted that mixed squads would be a regular sight for a few years yet anyway. They needed fresh blood to fill the UNSC ranks, new minds that had not spent years slaughtering Sangheili.

The Pelican roared to life, the ramp folding up and shutting them inside.

o**OO**o

The ship jumped and jerked about, rocking everyone inside. It was like, John imagined, being inside a giant cocktail mixer.

Gabby had insisted that he try a martini one time, weeks ago. For some reason, she had made him say his name as if he were introducing himself. _My name is Chiefs. John Chiefs. _He still didn't understand why, and she had refused to answer when asked, dissolving into giggles as a red flushed her cheeks. Apparently, there was a whole stash of liqueurs and various books with brightly coloured concoctions in that slightly dusty cupboard above the fridge.

It was hard not to smile at the memory, but then that _empty _feeling grew in his chest again. And it was just so damn confusing, this _ache _that bubbled and dug and throbbed inside in heart, and John just didn't understand_ why_.

It was like a part of him was missing, but it was just out of reach, and no matter how far he stretched his hand, it would slip away again.

Clenching his teeth until his jaw twinged in protest John pushed it all down and _focused. _This was not the time.

But perhaps...perhaps when he got back to the ship, and only if the Brutes had not arrived yet, he would send an email, even if it had only been a day.

Face set, John pulled the rifle from his back, the weight a comfort in his hands, even though it weighed barely anything to him. Thel was right beside him, body taught but relaxed as the plasma rifle came up.

With a final shudder that had John swaying on his feet, the Pelican landed. The loud whine of the thrusters powering down, quieting, as the ramp lowered and they filed out.

"_I'm not sensing anything beyond some small animals." _Cortana broadcasted this to all of their earpieces. "_Or anything out of place. Seems like we're in the clear, so far."_

The familiar radar appeared in the bottom corner of his HUD. Twelve green dots blinked back at him next to the yellow symbol of their ride. "Alright, Yanks and Geelet." He called, turning to the persons in question. They stood at attention, weapons raised while the others spread out and scanned the area despite Cortana's all clear.

Good, John thought with approval. "You two are guarding the Pelican. We may need to bug out quickly, so Pop's is staying."

Yank's lips pressed into a thinner line briefly, but he nodded sharply with a 'sir!' and took up position. Geelet's eyes glimmered with displeasure, however he took up the other position regardless. He nodded and called the others, barking out orders in an even and calm tone.

They moved with precision at his orders. John himself took up rear guard, with Stevenson, Ulys and Thel taking point. Mia'tee and Haze were the left flank, while Yul'que and the other three humans took the right.

Thel, having been on this planet before, lead them towards the area in which the assembly would take place. And while they moved over the grassy landscape, John took in their surroundings.

The island had a large and inactive volcano at its centre. Forests, lush and thriving, dominated their path. Some of the plants were strange, with their vivid colouring of yellow and blue with the occasional purple, but others seemed like foliage that you would find on Earth.

Hardly any animals crossed their path. Some birds hopped from tree to tree, twittering and calling to each other about these strange intruders. Their plumage was bright, they looked like comets streaking through the branches when they flew with fire coloured wings.

Their trek from the small clearing lasted only half-an hour, and John had some confidence that Alfa and Omega were well on their way to becoming a synchronised unit.

"We are almost there, be ready." Thel warned, orange eyes narrowed at the sunlight path.

The tree line was uniform, so when they emerged from the forest, they would immediately be out in the open.

The team shifted, bringing their rifles up from their half-raised positions and crouching low into the grass and melding with the shadows. John's scanners did not pick up on anything, nor did Cortana.

At that, John opened up a private channel with Thel, constantly scanning the area. Ahead, in the dead centre of the field, was their destination. It was one hundred feet away, surrounded by short grass and completely in the open.

"_Nothing's coming up on the scanners." _

John remained silent, tilting his head in Thel's direction. The Elite's eyes flashed in the light. He was wary, but did not see anything unusual.

They slunk forward with careful grace into the open, eyes peering in every direction with hawk like intensity. The grass hissed under their feet as they moved, and the silent group ghosted through the clearing.

o**OO**o

"_The scanners still aren't picking up anything._"

John idly flicked a stone with his foot, sending it skipping across the floor.

"No change here?"

Cortana laughed, _"None. You sound bored."_

Sweeping the area again, John huffed in reply. She laughed again.

The assembly area was fairly large, the outside walls over twenty feet high, and shaped like a bowl. The small stadium had been stone on the outside, but inside metal had been laid down, creating multiple seating areas. It was simple, and very open. The area had little in the way of cover, with no ceiling. There was no cover, no tables, no nothing. Just giant stairs to act as seats.

John cut his eyes to the left as Thel strode up beside him. "They are performing well." He said shortly, keeping his voice soft so that it wouldn't carry. John nodded once in agreement.

"They need to be tested in live fire, but so far, I see no problems."

Orange eyes were sceptical. "I sense that you have more to say."

Cortana chuckled quietly, but said nothing.

John continued, also keeping his rumbling tone quiet. "I would like to see how they interact outside of training and missions." This was partially to sate John's curiosity, but also to judge relations.

"_They sometimes have meals together, or most of them do after training." _The AI added, but he senses an idle curiosity in her tone as well. _"They do not purposefully avoid each other, they just have little in common. Ulys and Stevenson have played chess though."_

Thel rumbled in amusement, mandibles clicking. "A pastime based on strategy is indeed a way to bridge the gap between the factions."

John had a grin building upon his face, an idea forming in his mind that had too much promise to ignore. "Cortana, is there a poker table on board?"

The silence that followed, he assumed, was due to the strangeness of the question. When she answered, it was wrought with mystification. _"Yes, in the recreation room." _A pause. _"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"_

A smirk was her answer.

o**OO**o

"I was told that there was a rec-room on board," John began as they filed out of the Pelican and made their way to the armoury. Cortana had kept Hood updated constantly while they were deployed, and the admiral did not see the need for a de-briefing.

Haze unclipped his helmet and ruffled his dirty blond hair, which was outrageously spiky despite the regulation cut. There was surprise in the light grey eyes as he blinked up at the Spartan. "Uh, yeah, I mean, yes sir. Deck two, room B-23 is the main one."

The others were glancing at the two of them curiously, though Ulys's was more of a cursory glimpse.

Grinning behind the helmet, John followed them inside the armoury, unloading the rifle and Magnum before passing them off to the staff that would clean and check the weaponry. "They wouldn't happen to have a poker set, would they?"

Haze still seemed perplexed. "They have a proper table set up, all the equipment too."

Yanks snorted, making an exaggerated sound of disgust. "Except beer and cigars. You can't have a proper game of poker without them."

Grey eyes rolled and Haze playfully shoved his shoulder after returning his own rifle and pistol. "At least they have pretzels."

"I hate pretzels." Yanks grumbled, making a face.

The human members laughed as they continued unloading their gear. The elites were quite curious now, but it was Mia'tee that voiced the question on their minds. Her voice was low and soothing, nothing like the resonating and gravelly tones the males had. "What is poker?"

Stevenson quirked a small grin, stretching the scar that slashed down her face, "It's a card game. You place bets and try to bluff you way to winning."

Geelet squinted over at her, "Sounds like a dishonourable game."

Haze butted back in, waving his hand in a dismissive way. "Meh, it's mostly for fun, but it can be more about strategy and calling out the liars in the group, if that floats you boat better."

The elite did not even blink at the saying, something which John almost chuckled at as he watched the group. Geelet did seem to perk up at this new description.

Mia'tee cocked her head, red eyes gleaming. "Perhaps you could teach us this game, Adrian, you seem to know a great deal about it."

"Ah," Haze mumbled, "I don't actually know how to play." He peered around the room, "Does anyone know?"

Yanks laughed boisterously when their teams shook their heads in the negative, eyes sparkling with mirth. "I guess I'll be teaching everyone then." The he shook his head, waggling a finger at them. "For shame, guys. I don't blame the Elites for not knowing how to play, but you guys were in the Core, it's like a requirement to play poker!"

The marine ducked as Haze and Fender chucked their helmets at him. Stevenson clapped them both over the head with a muttered 'act your age'.

Thel, after recovering from seeing such childish behaviour from grown men, came up beside him as the group dissolved into chatter. John had faded into the background in order to see how things played out, and he was pleased with the results. "This is Gabrielle's influence, is it not?"

Snickering, John folded his arms. "Not quite, but she was the one to teach me."

Thel huffed, "I am not surprised."

"You shouldn't be, you know her, after all."

That made the orange eyes light with amusement. "Indeed. I believe that there is also a chess board in the recreational room." The statement was laden with suggestion, despite the almost offhand way Thel spoke it.

John cocked a brow, "Is that a challenge?"

A deep chuckle was his answer.

"Excuse me, Chief, Arbiter."

John snapped his jaw shut at the interruption. Though he had heard the man approach, he did not think that he was going to speak with him. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

Haze's fingers twitched, as if he wanted to ruffle his hair again. The other members of Alfa and Omega were watching the three of them, not wary, but attentive. "We are going to have a game later, and since you brought it up, Chief, we were wondering if you wanted to join us for a round?"

Seeing the nervous light in those grey eyes, eyes which reflected the brightness of his visor, John seriously contemplated the offer. If he were to accept the unexpected invitation, he would need to remove his helmet. It would not be fair otherwise.

It was surprising then, when the thought of revealing his identity, did not make John feel uneasy, like in the past. And if his identity were to leak out to the public, or beyond this ship, did John really care anymore?

That was not a question he could answer yet.

Plus, he could always ask Cortana to wipe his face from any devices on board.

Exchanging a look with Thel, John nodded. "So long as you don't mind losing, I'll join in."

Haze burst out into relieved laughter, shoulders going lax. "You know how to play?"

"Of course. It's a requirement."

Yanks dissolved into hearty chuckles, hollering out an 'oorah!'.

Cortana, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout the conversation, suddenly spoke up. _"Before you go off and flaunt your poker skills, Hood wants a debrief on their performance." _

o**OO**o

Adrian Haze gazed at the green armoured back as the Chief left for Admiral Hood's office with something close to wonder.

The rumours that had been circling around since long before the first contact with the Covenant were nothing but lies. The Master Chief was not some inhuman robot without feeling. Sure, he was massive and damn intimidating, but he was...kinda cool.

Hell, he'd made a _joke._

He seemed like any normal man, albeit a giant man with super strength and wicked fast reflexes, but he was still just a man.

Adrian bucked Yank's shoulder with his own, a cocky grin on his face.

"Told ya he'd agree."

o**O**oo**O**o

_Okay, so the competition is officially open!_

_The __**task**__ is to make a cover image for __**My Neighbour is a Spartan**__. The image must include the __**title**__ of the story, but everything else it up to you. __**No**__ erotic imagery though people, keep it clean. Feel free to PM me with questions and so forth, related to the competition or otherwise._

_The __**winner**__ will get to create their own minor OC character (who will be a member of either Alfa or Omega, your choice), and their entry will of course be used as the cover image for the story! Skill doesn't matter, slap some stuff together in photoshop or draw something in pen for all I care! If you need inspiration, draw your favourite scene from the story so far, or something you would like to see. ;)_

_**Entries**__ can be linked to me via __**PM**__**here**__ or my __**Deviant**__**art**__ account (link on my profile). _

_The __**competition**__**will**__**close**__**four**__**weeks**__ after I have uploaded this, and the winner will be announced with the next update, which will be a week or so later (I hope, since it's the end of semester then and all of my assessment is due). You shall be credited on my profile for the creation of the image, as well. _

_I am ridiculously excited about seeing what you guys can come up with!_

_Also, I am quite interested to see how 343 resolved the rampancy problem with Cortana in Halo 4. I can't wait to play it. It's gonna be awesome. Am I right? AMIRIGHT? _

_Just in regards to the chapter: This felt quite boring, to be honest, it's basically a filler chapter. Oh well, introduced some new characters, and personally I enjoyed creating Mia'tee. We never got to see females of the species in any of the games. Quite disappointing, really. And I did want to make this longer, but my brain just refuses to work with me today. Hell, I don't even know if this chapter works or not. I'd love some feedback._

_And next chapter we have tipsy elites, a poker game and the assembly! Dun dun duuuun!_

_Much love!_

_Razz_


	28. Chapter 27

_We have our winner! This lovely image was made by Olympis-117. Congratulations! Thank you to everyone that participated, I treasure these images! Olympis-117's character, William Jackson Locksley, will be included in this chapter. _

_I know this is late, really late. SORRY._

_Much love guys,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

_Chapter 27_

John stepped from the Command Deck, feeling the weight of the mission fall away. The Admiral was pleased by Alpha and Omegas progress. There was room for improvement, but that would come with more ground time together. John estimated that they would become a well oiled unit with enough time.

Striding to the quarters assignment to him, John began removing his armour with practised movements. He set the separate pieces down on the floor, leaving the body suit folded on the desk, and slipped on his normal clothes.

Once all this was done, John signed into the personal terminal bolted onto the desk and opened up his barely used email account.

John knew that Gabby checked her email every day, even if she was not expecting any correspondence.

He shifted about at first, unsure what to write. The cursor on screen blinked steadily, the screen blank. The words did not come to him, and this was not like writing a report, where he was just recounting the mission. This was so much..._more_. This was personal and, for something so simple, had an air of importance to it.

Finally, after drumming his calloused fingers on the desktop for at least five minutes, John started typing. He wrote a beginning, and deleted it while huffing in frustration. Closing his eyes, John tried to picture what he would say if Gabby were standing right before him, instead of light-years away.

And just like that, with the memory of strands of hair like sunlight and laughter that was warmer than any fire, the words came easily.

Several minutes later when he was, at last, satisfied with what he had written, John sent the email off and stood to leave.

As he pulled his standard UNSC jacket for off-duty marines, super-sized, out of the small drawer unit, John spied the wine bottle still nestled in the remaining clothes. A thought came to mind then.

"Cortana?" he asked seemingly no one.

The intercom came to life with a barely discernible hum. "_Yes, Chief?" _she answered.

"How long until the Brutes are estimated to arrive?"

"_At least a day and a half. We came two days early." _The AI answered without hesitation. John sensed her confusion though.

"Does fruit based alcohol have any adverse affects on Elites?"

There was an actual pause this time. "_It affects Elites the same as it does humans, perhaps more, considering they haven't been exposed to it before. Fermenting fruit isn't a popular past-time on Sangheilios. What is going on in your head today?"_

John grinned and snatched the bottle up. "Never mind that, I have a game to play."

"_Good luck, Spartan."_

o**OO**o

John considered sharing the wine with Alpha and Omega, but ultimately decided against it. He wanted to share this drink with Thel. The Elite needed to let loose and relax, even if it were only for an hour or two. The man did not like the weariness that he could see in those orange eyes. The Elite onboard the _United Front _was very different from the Elite he had spoken with on Stirling Hill.

As John made his way towards the rec-room, wine bottle wrapped and hidden in his jacket to avoid curious eyes, he sighed. Stirling Hill. _Home. _He certainly would like to be back there, standing under the sun and listening to the birds that had taken residence in the trees outside his house.

Wiping this homesickness from his mind, John entered the room, spying Yanks teaching the Elites the rules of the game. Movement drew John's eyes to the left. Haze swaggered over to the table, setting down bowls of pretzels and chips.

From a distance, John observed the group, humans and Elites, as Yanks explained how to play poker. It seemed that they would be playing Texas Hold'em, and John was pleased as he picked up on the excitement brewing amongst the soon-to-be players.

As he strode over with deliberately silent footsteps, John fought down a grin as he took the only remaining empty seat. All eyes swivelled to the intruder with surprise at first, but then an uncomfortable air came over a majority of the humans.

John smirked, only a small one, and cocked a brow.

Haze cleared his throat, somewhat nervously, and John almost bust his gut when the words finally came out.

"Sorry, man, we were saving that seat for out final player."

As they did not know is face, nor was his rank displayed, he could not hold any fault for the accidental disrespect. Keeping the amusement from his face, John tilted his head to the side, idly setting the jacket and bottle under his chair. Stevenson caught his eye, a knowing glint in her own, but she remained silent when he subtly winked at her.

"It was me that you were saving it for, Haze." John finally said, raising his eyebrow again. "Unless the offer has been withdrawn?"

Something caught in the man's throat, and the deck of cards that he had been shuffling slipped from his hands and spilled over the table. While he spluttered, John calmly met the eyes of every member, finally allowing himself to chuckle. All eyes zeroed in on his face, memorising it to the smallest detail. He didn't care for the scrutiny, but took it in stride, he had expected such reactions. At least there weren't any cameras.

Mia'tee and Ulys had not seemed surprised, and now they dipped their heads in deference to his rank, showing their respect. He returned the gesture, making sure to keep eye contact.

Haze finally gathered his wits, raising a hand in salute. "Sorry, sir, didn't recognise you outside of the suit."

With a small shake of his head, John dismissed the apology. "Unnecessary, Haze, but thank you." He snorted. "You seem surprised that I didn't turn up in my armour."

Haze squirmed in his seat, fiddling with the cards. "Well...yeah...sir." He tacked on quickly.

"That would have been an unfair advantage." John shrugged, a small lift of his broad shoulders. "Besides, I doubt the chair could have held the weight."

A round of laughter went through the group, the throaty rumble of the male Elite's the most noticeable. They had probably had firsthand experience with wooden chairs breaking under the weight of their armour. The Elites were still in their suits, but they did not weight nearly as much as the powerful MIJOLNIR suit.

Yanks, eyes still crinkled with humour, scooped up the second deck of cards he had been using to show different sets of hands to the uneducated group members. He shuffled them with clear skill. "You know Texas Hold'em, Chief?"

"Of course."

Fenders, having risen and retrieving several glasses, began lining cups up and filling them with...John took a sniff of his glass...ginger ale. "Looks like this will be an interesting game." The red-head grinned, taking his seat next to Geelet, whom was sitting on John's right. "Where'd you learn to play, Chief?"

"A friend of mine taught me."

"Been playing long?"

John shook his head, noting the curious gazes aimed at him with an internal sigh.

"A few weeks, so no, not particularly long."

Something positively evil sparked in Yank's eyes. "So you're still a newbie? Excellent."

John's glance was sly, devious in its own subtle way. "Just remember that I'm your senior officer."

Yank's hands froze, a hand full of several blue betting chips hovering over the table as he stared at John with surprise. There was an uncertainly in his muddy brown eyes now, and John fought down a smirk.

Stevenson came to the man's rescue, snorting as she did so. "Relax, James, he's pulling your chain." She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. "Idiot." She muttered.

Yanks flung a chip at her, which she caught easily.

Flicking a glance at John, which he did notice, Yanks began dividing up the blue, red and white chips. Each person was given an equal portion, and they all ended up with two-hundred dollar pots. Thankfully, someone had explained human currency to the Elites beforehand.

"Okay, I'll be playing as the dealer for this round, if you have any questions, ask away."

"Screw that," Fender slapped his hand on the table, "Let's get straight into it."

Yanks lifted a brow, scanning the table and eyeing everyone else's reactions. "Is everyone cool with that?"

Everyone nodded and Yanks shrugged. "Alright then, let's play!"

John took this opportunity to smirk, just a little deviously, at the man. He almost laughed when this time, Yanks jutted his chin and puffed his chest out like an angry chicken.

"Yes," John said, settling back into his chair, "Let's play."

o**OO**o

It came as a surprise to John, that Elites had such bad poker faces. Their range of expression was heavily tied in with their segregated jaws, and John was able to pick out a fair few tells and ticks during the first round. Mia'tee had a firm hold over her face, and revealed almost nothing to John's trained eyes, but the others, even the almost aloof Ulys, had a few.

Geelet's mouth would start twitching slightly when he had a good hand, and Yul'que, the deep-green hued Elite, would squint his eyes when he had a bad hand.

The humans were easier to read, and John had a good deal of fun playing with them. John pretended to have his own tells, a twitch of an eyebrow or a faint pull of the lips.

Essentially, he was hustling them, but he was having too much fun to really care. Gabby knew when he was faking though, so he didn't bother trying to mislead her when they played on Fridays.

Fender threw his cards down, glowering at them. "I fold. Again."

He had not done well in the first two rounds.

Stevenson chuckled under her breath, hiding a smirk as she called the latest round.

Two more of the humans folded. Gerads, a man with a rich Texan accent, threw his cards down with a mutter of discontent. Locksley, the close combat specialist from Alpha, frowned before carefully laying his hand down, murmuring 'fold' with a quiet huff. Mia'tee was the only Elite still in this round, and she raised the pot, much to John's surprise.

"I call your twenty, and raise you thirty." She said, a challenge glimmering in her eyes.

"Son'ova bitch, Theo." Haze spat, slapping his cards on the table while glaring at Yanks,  
"You taught them how to _win_ not how to play. Fold."

Yanks rolled his eyes even as, he too, laid his cards down. "You just suck at this game, Georgie."

Hissing a curse word, Haze crossed his arms over his chest and slid down in his seat. He was a sore loser, apparently.

As he called again, John caught Stevenson watching him like a hawk. She didn't look away when he purposefully met her eyes, and he smirked briefly in approval. The platinum blond snorted and cocked a brow. Curiously, John also noticed Locksley spying him, but when he made eye contact the combat specialist looked away awkwardly.

When the third card on the table was flipped, everyone but John, Stevenson and Mia'tee folded.

It was just the three of them now.

John steadily met the eyes of the only women in their company. Red as blood and grey as slate. They were confidant eyes, full of challenge and pride.

The other players either leaned closer or skidded back as the tension thickened, leaving an almost palpable taste in the air. Their eyes, light with excitement that was barely restrained, flicked between the three them.

John stretched his free arm to rest over the back of his chair, canting his head to the side slightly in a show of assurance. Something sparked in both women's eyes at the purposeful goading. He was calm, cool and collected, and John was showing it.

Oh yes, John _loved _poker.

The last communal card was placed on the table and flipped.

He cocked a brow, the cards flashed in his minds eye, and a smirk threatened to break across his face. Stevenson's own face pinched slightly, fingers drumming across the backs of her cards. This was the last round, she had to decide now.

Slate eyes evaluated brown and red, then, with a soft sigh, Stevenson set her cards down with a calm air. "Dammit. I'm out."

Several groans came from her squad, but she merely shook her head and sat back to watch the show.

Mia'tee tilted her head to the side, considering him. The mimicked movement did not seem purposeful.

John grinned wolfishly, a curious expression that he had learned from playing poker with Gabby.

The Elite, still clad in purple armour, narrowed her gaze at him. The green stripes under her lower lids giving the expression a dangerous edge.

"I call, and raise you one-hundred." She finally intoned, gracefully sliding the required chips into the sizable pile. Bloody eyes dared him to make a move.

But John wasn't called the Demon for nothing.

Without even glancing at his hand or at the cards on the table, John pushed all of his remaining chips in.

"All in. Your move."

Mia'tee bared her fangs in a grin of her own, the first real expression he had seen from her. The eye teeth on her upper jaw were at least an inch long.

It was a good thing the females had remained on Sangheilios during the war, as most of humanity would have pissed themselves after seeing that coming towards them.

Electricity seemed to spark around the table, and John noticed several other off-duty personnel hovering around their group. All waited with bated breath for the showdown to come to its climax.

Brown eyes flashed across the cards on the table. Queen of hearts. Queen of spades. Ace of hearts.

Mia'tee, being on the left of the dealer, set her cards down first, face up.

Queen of diamonds and the Ace of spades.

John schooled his face over, keeping the smirk and raising his brows.

As he picked up his cards with a leisurely pace that had Fenders and Haze bouncing in their seats, John kept eye-contact with Mia'tee. The people behind and beside him leaned closer, hoping for a peak.

Stare unbroken, John flipped his cards.

Two of diamonds and five of clubs.

His smirk became a genuine grin, eyes crinkling in the corners. "You win, Mia'tee."

There was dead silence as everyone absorbed the fact that John had bluffed his way, in a brilliant fashion, through the game. Then Haze fell forward and let his head hit the table with a thump with an audible sigh.

"That was the tensest moment of my entire life."

The table burst into applause for the very pleased looking Elite as she began dragging her winnings to her little section of the table.

"I like this game."

The person seated beside her, Jensen, beamed and clapped her armoured shoulder with enthusiasm. "Bra-fucking-vo, 'tee, you won against the_ Master Chief_. That was _awesome_!"

Quite pleased with herself, the Elite -normally quite restrained, John guessed- allowed herself to preen under the compliments being heaped upon her. Their eyes met again, and she bowed her head respectively. "An excellent game, you do your species credit, sir."

John chuckled, all the while spying a silver armoured Elite entering the room. "We can surprise you."

"Darn tootin' we can!" Haze began shuffling the deck, grinning ecstatically. "Anyone up for another round?"

Amidst the affirmative and eager replies, John had to decline with true regret. He had enjoyed the game more than he thought he would. "I'm afraid that I have a prior engagement." He stood, scooping up his jacket with the wine bottle still safely nestled inside even as a few groans of disappointment arose. "Thank you for the game."

"No, sir, thank you." Yanks said, surprising John by standing up and shaking his hand in a firm grip. "Best game I've had in years, and I can safely say for everyone that we'd love to have another game." There were several cheers and hoots to affirm this.

Pleasantly surprised, John couldn't stop the smile forming. "You'll regret making that offer, Yanks."

Scoffing exaggeratedly, he said: "No offense, sir, but if you're playing, I won't be betting real money."

With a sly grin, John replied, "Understandable. You'd be broke by the end."

The marine barked a laugh, and with earnest eyes, clapped John on the shoulder, much like Jensen had done to Mia'tee. "You're alright, Chief."

With a lightness to his step, John strolled over to Thel. Time to settle another challenge.

o**OO**o

"If you do not mind, I would rather we have this game in the officers' quarters." Thel waved towards the door. "It is quieter, and I wish to speak."

John agreed to this, and followed the taller figure from the room. Once the door slid back into place with a _swoosh_ the growing racket from inside was almost completely silenced, muffled laughter was all that could be heard. "About them, no doubt."

Helmet flashing dimly in the soft light, Thel canted his head to the side, like a curious cat. "Partially, but I would also ask you opinion on other things."

Shrugging slightly, John fell into step beside the Elite. They did not need to walk far; the officers' quarters were located down the hall. A sign in bright red proclaimed that none below a certain rank were allowed inside without permission. Sometimes the higher ranking officers needed to escape for a while, or required a calm but communal place to discuss classified topics. Hence, a separate recreational room.

There were only two others inside. Two men, both in off-duty clothing, sat in a corner. They were talking softly over several official looking files, sipping from dark bottles which, surprisingly enough, were beer.

John took in the room. It was lit with soft light, with a drinks bar in one corner. There was likely a Dumb AI monitoring the room, should this liberty with alcohol be taken for granted. Excluding that surprising addition, there were several couches and screens scattered through the room. A small kitchen and fridge were rather homely additions. A smaller games area was located in another corner.

Immediately, Thel took a seat at the chess table and began setting up the board. He cast an inquiring look at John when the man, instead of taking the other seat, picked up two wine glasses from the kitchen first. The ridge above one orange eye rose as John set the delicate looking glasses down and popped the cork of the now revealed wine bottle.

As the dark red liquid flowed into the glasses its warm scent further piqued the Elite's interest. John smirked, chuckling. One or two glasses would do no harm, and as the Brutes were not expected for at least twenty-four hours, John felt secure in allowing the two of them this small pleasure.

It wasn't a particularly strong wine either, though it was full of flavour. Rich and smooth, with a light tang of spice, he knew from experience. This brand in particular was grown and made by a rather wealthy family in Tamworth, and Gabby, being rather fond of home grown products, had several bottles sitting in her cupboard. This one was one of her favourites, and John resolved to replace it when he returned home.

Plus, John felt that Thel needed to take a moment to relax. The weight of responsibility was crushing during times like this, and if Gabby's gift would help alleviate that all-consuming responsibility, then he would gladly use it.

Watching Thel pick up such a thin and delicate glass was highly amusing; eventually he just wrapped two of his long fingers around the body, ignoring the stem completely and hesitantly sniffed at the liquid. Sharp claws _pinged _against the fragile cup as Thel made a soft growling noise of approval.

"I have seen many humans drink this. What is it?"

John took a sip of his own, savouring the richness. "Red wine. It's made from fruit and other ingredients."

John thought it best to not mention yeast or the fermenting process. The Elites reaction to yoghurt was memorable enough.

"This is alcohol, is it not?" It wasn't disapproval, not quite, but worry in Thel's tone.

John took another sip, and then set the glass down. "It is, but one glass won't hurt you." John, as he was white, moved his pawn first.

Thel took an experimental taste of the drink, and seeing an Elite drink from a human glass was even more amusing that watching him hold one.

Orange eyes widened in surprise once the flavour registered, and Thel stared at the drink with new interest.

"This tastes like Arancarr." He stated with mild wonder.

John, still waiting for the other to make a move, rested his chin in his hand, elbow propped on the table surface. "What is Arancarr?"

Thel took another swallow, humming again, deeper this time. "A spiced drink made from the blood of Aran, a mammalian species that resides deep within Sangheilios's jungles."

Blinking slowly, John tried not to think of Thel drinking blood from an animal like the vampires from that terrible movie Gabby had coerced him into watching one day. Having an apex predator, one known for _stalking_ its prey, sparkle seemed like an inexcusable flaw.

"Is it popular?"

Thel set his drink down, finally making a move. "Quite. The Aran were nearly hunted into extinction due to its popularity, centuries ago. They never recovered, so laws were placed down, and brewers could only blood-let the creatures, not kill them. And that may only occur during the summers."

"Yes, well, I doubt Gabby would appreciate a glass of Arancarr, in exchange for this." John said with fond humour.

Eyes flashing with amusement as well, Thel chortled. "Only _if_ she knew it was made from blood."

"Are you willing to test that theory?" John smirked, stealing one of Thel's black pawns with a well placed Knight.

"Perhaps, but now that I know the reason why humans name so many of their ships after women, I hesitate."

"You've heard some stories then?" John quirked a knowing grin, remembering many of the tales he and the other Spartans had been told of fierce women in battle during their earlier years. "Hard to forget, huh?"

"Were it so easy."

They shared a laugh, a soft noise in respect for the other two in the room, and continued to play.

o**OO**o

Rtas had come into the room sometime during their second game, and being curious about Alpha and Omega's performance, pulled up a chair.

Thel, with Johns consent, offered the Ship Master a glass of the wine.

It was shortly after the third glass disappeared down Rtas's gullet that John and Thel discovered something rather amusing.

Rtas, an Elite taller than even the Arbiter, Master of the assault carrier the _Unflinching Justice_, was a lightweight.

Not just a lightweight, John thought as Rtas warbled something in his native tongue, but a hideously light-weighted-lightweight.

"Cortana," he said to the intercoms, knowing she had subroutines attuned to his voice, "Do you have access to Elite medical files?"

Laughter drifted around them, curling through the air. Thel was watching Rtas with wide, orange eyes. Rtas had not outwardly shown any signs of inebriation until the third glass was already half gone, and seeing his subordinate in such a state must have been quite unusual.

"_I certainly do, and I've gone ahead and brought our esteemed Ship Master's up."_ She laughed again, and John snorted as Thel had to wrangle the wine bottle away from the tipsy Elite to prevent him from pouring himself another glass.

The two officers were watching them with barely repressed laughter.

"Well, Cortana?"

"_Rtas is highly stressed at the moment, and hasn't been eating properly. His body is absorbing the alcohol faster than his liver can break it down. Not to mention that his body has likely never been exposed to alcohol of this kind before."_

Thel, very firmly, stuffed the cork back in the bottle and set it well out of Rtas's reach. "This was an unexpected turn of events." He spoke, voice unconcerned as his second in command began chortling at something only he could hear.

"That's what normally happens when alcohol becomes involved."

Thel squinted at the bottle suspiciously. "He's only had two glasses."

"Very _full_ glasses."

"Demon," Rtas droned, green eyes blearily focused on the amused man, "I demand that we spar! _Nathral duma'vee!_"

John crossed his arms over his broad chest and fought down laughter. It would not help to irate the Elite as he wobbled on the spot. The chair scraped across the floor, and Thel sighed as Rtas swayed into a standard guard stance.

"My honour demands this, come _Fellshraa-_Demon, rise and join me in glorious combat!"

Thel and he exchanged a look as Rtas blinked slowly at his own hands.

"I believe that Rtas does need to let loose, a spar would do his spirit well."

John tilted his head at the others comment, carefully watching their drunk member as he began muttering about the 'glory of the Sangheili' and the benefits of fighting without weaponry. Alternatively interchanging human-English with his native tongue.

"But not now, I think."

"_Gentlemen, the couch will accommodate Rtas well enough."_ Cortana hinted.

Thel agreed. "It would not do, for Rtas's pride aside, for the crew and his men to see him in such a state."

The officers had gone back to their discussion, but their eyes would stray to the three of them as they coerced Rtas towards the couch despite his continued cries about glory and honour.

With effort, they finally got the Elite to lay down on the couch, his tall frame only just fitting. Thel removed his helmet, setting it on the table with a put-upon sigh. "The things I do for my people."

Snorting, John watched as the alcohols other effects kicked in, leaving Rtas tired and sluggish. Soon enough, he was asleep.

"So," John said, voice soft, "how do you think the civilians will hold up in the meeting?"

They re-took their seats, Rtas's light snores filling the otherwise quiet room. The game was in John's favour at the moment, but brown eyes quickly routed out several moves that Thel was likely to make. He'd had to keep a close eye on the others Knight and Bishop.

Thel slid a pawn forward, idly dragging his claw across the table-top. "The female, I am not sure how she will do if she must divide her attention between the proceedings and that oaf. Reynolds reeks of trouble, he has fangs behind that smirk of his, Spartan, watch yourself."

Thel's warning echoed in his mind dully. As uneasy feeling settled in his gut, and John frowned briefly.

"What makes you say that?"

"He reminds me of Truth. He is skilful with words, a powerful orator, and he manipulates with ease. I worry what his intentions are."

It was startling, hearing Thel liken a human so important to the following mission to the Prophet.

"We will need to keep an eye on him." John let his chin rest in his palm, blowing a soft breath through his nose. "Perhaps even have a word with him."

"If that is what you think is best. The few times I have conversed with him were...trying. His tongue is forked, and words slippery."

With a defeated frown, John watched as his King was knocked over. The little tower of white fell on the board with a definite _clack. _John imagined that if this assembly were to go wrong, that is what would become of the shaky-at-best Alliance. They would fall, crumble beneath the weight of another war breaking out. They would not survive another. They, humans and Sangheili, would be exterminated and left to rot on their home worlds or drift in space.

Brown met orange, and they were both tired, but determined.

"Another game?"

John smirked, a small twist of scarred lips.

"Of course."

o**OO**o

Later, when words had become too tiresome and his eyes felt heavy, Thel and John parted for the night. Rolling his shoulders, John trudged into his quarters, tossing his jacket over the chair.

The weariness was plaguing him, more mental than physical, but the urge to check his email rose. So, instead of laying down on the bed, he settled into the chair and logged into his personal account.

A strange, warm thrill made his fingertips tingle and his heart kick up a pace when he saw that Gabby had replied.

John smiled to himself as he read and re-read her short, but sincere, reply.

As he went to bed and stared at the cold metal of the ceiling, he replayed her final words over in his mind.

_I miss you too._

o**O**oo**O**o

_I'm twenty now! I'm half way to the mid-life crisis! Woo!_

_This was so late because I had to tackle the end of semester essays and exams, plus, I've picked up a second job doing commission paintings. I need to save up for an operation (just getting my wisdom teeth out, they've pulled my jaw out of alignment, which causes very bad migraines), so I've been spending a lot of time working._

_Also, on a more personal note, I've been dealing with sexual harassment from a customer at the store in which I work. It has been very stressful and really puts me in a foul mood. It's just verbal stuff, but __**goddamn**__ I nearly flipped out and slapped the mofo a few times. __**Please, if you are being harassed, bullied or feel uncomfortable do to the actions of someone, sexual or otherwise, tell someone. **__It doesn't matter what it is, if it makes you uncomfortable, tell someone, tell me, your family, friend, co-worker, whoever. Just tell someone._

_I really wanted to finally get to the actual assembly, but things got away from me and the chapters just sort of...grew of its own violation. Bah._

'_till next time, my dears!_


	29. Chapter 28

_You guys have pushed MNiaS over 1000 review mark. This is amazing, truly astonishing, because MNiaS is the first EVER Halo story on this site to reach this point. Wow._

_WOW._

_Much love, ya'll. Seriously, the love is amazing._

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

**Chapter 28**

"Pardon me, Master Chief, might I have a word?"

Arabella, heels clicking on the metal floor, hastened to his side.

"Ma'm." He greeted, slowing his stride considerably so that the shorter person could keep pace without jogging. "What can I do for you?"

She wore a simple tailored suit again, highlighting the slimness of her figure. John did not think that heels were a proper shoe to be worn on a ship though, but he refrained from saying anything. The heels did elevate her above the average height of most women, though she still had to look up to meet his eyes.

"I was hoping to speak with you before the assembly, may we talk privately? The guest observation deck will suffice, if you don't mind."

John agreed, following Arabella as she led him through a number of hallways, garnering many curious looks as they passed. Dull thuds and metallic clacks echoed in their wake, and save a few murmured greetings from lower ranks, the quiet went undisturbed.

With delicate fingers, Arabella swiped her identification card in the locking system beside the door, allowing them both access.

With a cursory sweep of the room, John could tell that it was designed to offer comfort and stability to important guests. For one, the floor was carpeted, a wholly bizarre thing for one such as he to see on a ship. The furniture was, from what Gabby had chattered on about while she had taken him into town that first time in search of clothes and furniture, modern and sleek.

Several expensive looking couches and armchairs were scattered about the room, some arranged around wooden tables and screens. The longest couch, stretching several feet in length, faced the enormous window that took up the majority of the far wall.

John almost cringed at the massive weak point the window made for the ships defences and shielding, but ignored it for the time being. The view was spectacular though, the planet below a bright ball of blue, breathtakingly bright against the glittering blackness surrounding it. The island the assembly would be taking place on was hilariously small and isolated on the oceanic world.

Arabella took a seat in a corner of the room, brushing non-existent lint from her pants. With a wave of that elegant hand, she gestured for him to take the opposite seat. He hesitated.

"I will stand. The chair does not look like it will hold my weight." He supplied when her eyes narrowed in confusion. Painted lips ticked up in amusement, then she rested her intertwined hands upon her knee.

"I do not know if there is anything that you can do, but I have concerns about my fellow representative." Arabella began, face creasing in a show of mild worry.

John understood immediately, "Nicholi."

Arabella's styled hair swayed slightly as she nodded, the graceful waves reaching well below her shoulders. "Yes, as you have no doubt noticed, he is...difficult to control, especially when he is determined to achieve something."

John leant against the wall, crossing his arms. She followed the movement, not at all daunted by the faceless visor. He remained silent.

A heavy sigh left her, "He lost a great of money and property during the war. Many of the mines and refineries he owned were on planets or moons that were glassed, if not destroyed and rendered unsalvageable."

"And you are concerned that he will demand too much in compensation." He surmised. Seeing the tired light in the steady grey gaze was all the confirmation he needed. "What do you propose we do?"

"If it were anyone but Nicholi, I would suggest merely speaking with him, but that course of action may only aggravate him. And he is too intelligent for us to use reverse psychology or subliminal suggestions." She made a small noise of frustration, "Shooting him in the foot would be the easiest solution, then he would not be able to participate."

That startled a bark of laughter out of him, which in turn made her grin, though it was a small, tired thing. Withered like a plant that had gone without water for too long. "An interesting idea. Though it has merit, I doubt the authorities would approve."

She laughed, though like her smile it was tired, drawn with weariness. The keenness of his vision allowed John to see through the face she had painted on. It would fool most others, almost all from a certain distance, so well and carefully applied the makeup was.

"I take it that acting as this delegate has taken its toll?"

Her eyes brightened with vexation, either at his notice or the source of her exhaustion, he did not know. "Juggling my own extensive pile of work on top of stopping Nicholi from causing an incident has stretched me thin, yes, which is why I have come to you. I do not know how I will handle myself with the Brutes, and I need someone too..."

"Ease the burden?" John supplied.

"To put it crudely. I have never faced a Brute before, and not to sound selfish, but I will need to focus entirely on what I am representing in this assembly. My attention cannot be divided between controlling Nicholi, speaking on behalf of the medical community and keeping myself from, frankly, pissing my pants in fear."

John was so startled by her sudden cuss that he could not stop an amused snort from escaping him.

She smirked, flicking more imaginary lint from her knee. "I _said_ to put it crudely."

Arabella certainly was different away from official meetings, he thought. She still held herself with a confidant air, and spoke with smooth, even tones, but in those rooms her face was kept almost completely blank. Here, she smirked and grinned and laughed.

But the laughter was tired, the grins flat, and her eyes...they did not come to life with the laughter or the grins. She was controlled, restrained by invisible chains linked to her station. It was sad. And it was strange seeing this now, in Admiral Hood, Rtas, Thel and Arabella. They were bound and tethered by their stations, always restricted in their actions, and it wasn't until John had tasted the freedom that came with civilian life that he begun to realise the impact such gargantuan responsibilities came with.

John sighed, resolving to talk to Hood about Nicholi. "I will do what I can."

Though her back had remained perfectly straight throughout their conversation, her shoulders relaxed minutely. "Thank you," she said in an almost whisper.

He nodded, and left the room.

o**OO**o

With the external speakers of his helmet deactivated, John opened his communication line with Cortana.

"Where is Admiral Hood at the moment, Cortana?"

"_His office, and I doubt he would mind the interruption. The amount of paper work he's doing at the moment would drive anyone insane."_

"Notify him for me, please."

"_Of course." _Then, she said, "_Does this have anything to do with a certain civilian representative that has already got half the crew plotting pranks upon his person due to various insults and other grievances?"_

A truly amused grin pulled his lips up as the feigned innocence of her voice filled his helmet. "Eavesdropping again?"

"_Don't act surprised, you know I'm monitoring every inch of this ship."_ A pause. "_And you might want to take the longer route and stop by the Officers Rec. Room, Rtas is showing signs of waking up and Arbiter got called away. He wanted to be there in case Rtas thought he had been poisoned." _Her voice trembled with repressed laughter.

John stepped into the elevator, idly wondering if and how Elites dealt with hangovers. Judging by how Thel assumed Rtas would react to being hungover, it was not something they had a great deal of experience in. John uttered a low hum as he wondered if alcohol was a common substance on Sangheilios; Arancarr was not alcoholic, just spiced.

Cortana pre-empted his question. "_Get him to drink lots of water, and eat something loaded with protein. Bread would be good too, but Elites aren't too fond of it."_

"Same thing Gabby swears by."

Delighted laughter, such a breath of fresh air it was, made him smile. _"Great minds think alike."_

They spoke of inane things after that, carefully chosen topics that had nothing to do with the coming events, and eventually Gabby came up.

"_So, are you still climbing the walls wondering why you miss her so much?"_

"I've been distracted, so, no." Locksley and Stevenson passed him in the hall, grinning awkwardly and waving respectively. He dipped his head in return. "Why do you ask?"

"_I've taken the liberty of consulting the onboard psychologist, and she was nice enough to provide some possible explanations. Would you like to hear them?"_

Though gratitude filled him, John did not want to analyse what he was feeling. These feelings, as confusing as they were, were _his_. It was not to be documented and judged, like every other thing he had done in his life."I appreciate the effort, Cortana, but I'll have to turn you down."

"_As I expected. My next offer is to open up a video chat line for an hour between you and Gabby before the assembly. Hood agreed, he doesn't want you distracted."_

John froze, coming to a complete halt outside the rec. room.

"_I take it that you won't be turning this offer down?" _The A.I. tittered, a familiar confidence flooding her voice.

"That would...thank you, Cortana." He breathed.

Chuckles were the only reply.

o**OO**o

Rtas fell off the couch with a resounding _thud _just as John entered the room.

The Elite jerked up from his undignified sprawl with a startled growl, taking in his surroundings with a bleary eyed stare. John refrained from making his amusement known, and instead chose to remain silent while the other gathered his bearings. Rtas made a show of it too, fumbling with his helmet and putting it on backwards before growling lowly and setting it straight.

John waited until he managed to haul himself up and regain _some _dignity before making his presence known. "Sleep well?" he smirked behind the visor.

Rtas hissed, jaws flexing and as a deep groan echoed from his throat.

It was a shame that the helmet prevent him from covering his mouth, if he hadn't been wearing it John might have been able to muffle the chuckles rumbling in his chest.

Rtas hissed again, like an angry cat, and stiffened his spine. "This is no laughing matter, Spartan. Were you not affected by the poison as well?"

John blinked, before the chuckled came back full force, dissolving into deep laughs that had the Elite eyeing him wearily. "It was not poison," he finally managed to get out, "it was alcohol."

Cortana came to his rescue, her highly amused voice floating from the intercoms in the room. _"Technically, alcohol _is_ a form of poison, if improperly brewed or if too much is consumed. You, Shipmaster, drank too much."_

Bleary eyes moved about the room, "The wine...that was an alcoholic substance?"

John nodded once, fearful that if he spoke he would only start laughing again. He was in a startlingly good mood, especially after Cortana's kind offer. Gabby would call him...giddy, he supposed.

"_You were quite inebriated, or in layman's terms, drunk. Tipsy, if you prefer."_

"So," Rtas said, though the groan he gave nearly made the word unintelligible, "this is the after effects of being drunk?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps next time a warning would do me well."

John shrugged, "Live and learn."

Rtas glared at him, muttering something that, John was entirely sure, was an insult in the Elite's native tongue.

"Drink lots of water, and eat something meaty, bread too, if you can, and it will help with the pain."

"So you have suffered this horrid sensation as well?"

"Nope, but a friend of mine has." Brown eyes followed the Elite as he sluggishly strode into the small kitchenette, downing two glasses of water in quick succession. "Others have their own hangover cures, but food is a common part of them all. Usually."

A sudden horror dawned in Rtas's eye's, "Did any of the crew see me in such a dishonourable state?"

"No. Two senior officers were in here, but they won't talk." Or so John hoped. He doubted they would, but still... "I have things to do, if you're alright now?"

Gulping down a third glass, Rtas peered at him curiously, eyes already looking clearer and alert. "You came here for the sole purpose of, how do the humans phrase it, checking up on me?"

"Yes, it was no trouble."

The reptilian eyes, narrowed in thought, did not leave him for several moments. "You have my thanks, Spartan." He finally intoned, softly, like it was a great secret but _needed_ to be heard.

John simply nodded in reply.

o**OO**o

Rapping sharply on the door, John waited for his entry to be permitted before stepping inside. Hood was without his customary hat and seated behind a desk that had several organised piles of paperwork. The pile of those that appeared completed was pitifully small compared to the other stacks.

"Sir," he saluted, only shifting into an at ease posture when the Admiral waved a hand tiredly.

The pen in his hand was carefully placed down. "I'd tell you to take a seat, but you'd probably break it."

"A wise decision, sir." John admitted with a quirk of his lips.

Hood shook his head, a soft huff of laughter rasping from his throat. "Retirement has done you good, son. I don't think I've ever heard a Spartan crack a joke before."

"It's not the retirement, so much as the company."

A strange thing occurred then. Something that made Hood's mouth twitch and his eyes light up with humour and knowledge. It made him look a decade younger. "Company...yes, I believe that you have a call to make in a few hours." There was an air of mystery to his tone, and curiosity made John frown. "Never mind that though. What can I do for you, Chief?"

John was tempted to question the Admiral, but thought better of it. "Arabella has concerns about Nicoli Reynolds."

Hood bowed his head, kneading his temple with one hand. "Reynolds," he sighed with aggravation, "of course. Do you know how many people have been frothing at the mouth about him?"

"A few, I take, sir."

Hood snorted, running a weathered hand through silver hair.

"Arbiter and myself have similar concerns."

A brow arched, "Honestly, Chief, I am not surprised. Arabella seems capable of handling him though."

John's lips pressed into a grim line that slashed across his face, a show of his worry. "She has never faced a Brute before, sir."

Cortana interrupted John then, activating the holo-deck affixed to the simple, but large, wooden desk. "_If I may quote the lady," _she said, before a recording of John and Arabella's conversation was playing through the speakers, _"'I have never faced a Brute before, and not to sound selfish, but I will need to focus entirely on what I am representing in this assembly. My attention cannot be divided between controlling Nicholi, speaking on behalf of the medical community and keeping myself from, frankly, pissing my pants in fear.'"_

The clip ended, and John felt that he needed to add, "She did say 'to put it crudely'."

The Admiral snorted again, rubbing his chin with a thumb while he thought. "You said that she had been acting as a...delegate between Reynolds and the crew?"

Knowing that Hood was not speaking to John, he remained silent.

"_Yes, sir. Her stress levels are bordering on unhealthy, and the Brutes haven't even arrived yet."_

"What do you recommend, Chief?"

"Shoot him in the foot." John shrugged, only half-serious.

Cortana's laughter trilled in the background as Hood levelled John with a gaze of quiet amusement. "I do hope that you are not being serious."

"Of course not, sir."

Cortana's laughter became louder.

o**OO**o

Hood said that he was going to handle it, and there was little else John could do but explore the ship until Cortana set up the video link.

Of course, John's infamous luck chose to desert him, as he stepped into the elevator, he was met with none other than Reynolds himself.

"Ah, the Master Chief," he smirked as the surprise melted from his clean-cut face. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

John almost sighed, glad for the protection of the visor as it hid his resigned expression. "Reynolds." He said shortly, with the stoicism that he had perfected over the years.

Thin brows hiked up, a smirk spreading across Nicholi's face like oil.

"I find myself in a curious position." Nicholi began, leaving a silence for John to speak, but continuing on when he did not rise to the bait. "I was hoping to gain your...perspective on the Brutes before this assembly."

With an internal sigh, John turned his head slightly, showing that the other had his attention. Not that he needed it, the representative was examining his, clearly, manicured nails.

"Like my fellow representatives, I have never seen a Brute, beyond the clips in the news, of course, and I was hoping that you might provide me with your unique experience so that I might prepare myself."

He frowned delicately, skin that should have creased remaining smooth. "Well, for their behaviour and appearance, at any rate. The stench will be another matter entirely."

John remained an unmoving statue. "I'm not the talkative type."

Nicholi might have snorted at that, but John doubted the man would lower himself to make such an undignified sound. "That's hardly what I meant. I was speaking in terms of _showing _rather than _telling_."

John stiffened, but showed no outward sign of his revelation.

Nicholi wanted to tap into the MJOLNIR suit.

The gall of this man, that he would dare to even ask John such a thing, knowing that there were confidentiality laws placed upon the suit's hardware and software,laws that John knew prevented civilians and anyone below a certain rank from viewing the recordings taken by the cameras in his helmet.

"Those recordings are not available to you, as you are well aware." John almost growled.

"Aware? Yes, but I was hoping that you would see reason."

"Reason?"

Nicholi finally deemed John worthy enough to face fully. The smirk was still in place, and his eyes glinted with brutal intelligence. "Reason is what drives us. To win, to fight, to die. But I am offering you another reason, give me access to the suit, you don't even have to take it off, all I need is a moment with the helmet, and I will give you back your identity."

"My identity?" John said darkly.

"Yes," Nicoli said, but it sounded like the predatory hiss of a snake, "something that was stolen from you when you were only eight years old. Getting it back should be reason enough to concede."

Every cell in John's body _froze._

"I have a number of associates who are very good at finding things, uncovering secrets and digging up dirt." There was an amused undertone to his silken voice, a joke that no one else was privy too. "Long story short, I know who you are, John Chiefs, give me access to the suit and I will give you everything that was taken from you. Your life _before_ you were forced to join the Spartan program."

Nicholi steadily meet John's nose through the visor, somewhat lessening the effect of his grandeur speech. But his words, his _reason_, wrapped around John's heart like a python, constricting and squeezing until feeling anything other than the want to breathe became impossible.

Nicholi smiled that plastic grin again, "I can give you back your family."

John swallowed, but not in fear or nervousness, but from anger, from a dark rage that whispered and slithered and hissed to strike down this petty, cruel man. Beneath the armour, his knuckles went white with tension. This is why he could not breathe, it was a anger so black and encompassing that it was hard to distinguish anything else.

Shooting Nicholi in the foot seemed like a _very_ good idea right about now.

Cortana's urgent voice flooded his helmet.

"_Hood and I were listening in, he wants to see how far Reynolds is willing to go. Play along." _A pause. "_Please, John, calm down."_

John forced down several biting remarks, but followed orders regardless. He took a breath, and held it before letting it out. When he spoke, his voice was level with its usual gravel.

"You and I both know that the reason you want access to the suit has nothing to do with the Brutes. What is the _real_ _reason_?" The last word emerged begrudgingly though clenched teeth.

Nicholi, smelling his false victory, chuckled. "You certainly are a sharp one, John," he drawled lazily, "I want schematics and locations. I want the personal shielding hardware. I want the truth."

The anger still bubbled, but true curiosity made John ask: "The truth?"

The plastic grin broadened, showing unnaturally white teeth.

"About the Halo rings, about the Flood, about the top-secret missions. The Forerunners, the secret research facilities, the Gravemind. I want..._everything_."

"Why?"

Nicholi spread his arms wide, his smile more teeth then actual expression. "The questions is not why, it is better put as 'how much?' How much are people willing to pay to know the truth? To know the real actions of their so called heroes and saviours? They deserve to know just who we have allied ourselves with! How many they've slaughtered and massacred on their 'great journey'." He spat the words out like venom, even though his voice barely rose in volume. Snake indeed.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. "Think about it, John. Honesty, _truth_, is the most valuable commodity humans have now. And doesn't humanity deserve not to be lied to anymore?" He smirked one last time. "I can wait until after the assembly, think about it. Your family awaits."

Then Nicholi was gone.

The doors closed and the elevator rose.

John growled and seethed. Good mood nothing more than dust in the wind now.

"Cortana." He said.

"_Yes, Chief?"_

"I want his ass nailed to the wall."

The A.I. chuckled forebodingly, "_I can promise you that, John."_

o**OO**o

The Admiral wanted to see how far Reynolds would go, and just how much he knew, so he ordered John to accept the offer and allow Reynolds access to the suit.

What Nicholi did not know was that when that happened Cortana would be in there already.

Cortana would feed him false data, and then trace it, following the trail until they were able to discover just who Nicholi's associates were.

With a tired sigh, John removed the last of his armour. He left the body suit on, as he couldn't be bothered peeling it off.

"_Are you ready, John?"_

"Yes, Cortana, open the line."

For the next hour though, John would forget it all, he would smile and laugh and be happy.

John sat at the desk as Cortana worked her magic. He bathed in white light, and his heart began beating faster. A grin already pulled his lips up.

"_Have fun!" _Cortana said in a rather chirpy tone.

And then a window popped open on the screen.

John cocked a brow, as all he could see was a large, yellow smiley face.

Then he heard a low curse.

"_What the...how the hell does this stupid webcam thing work!"_

Her voice was still husky, smooth and warm, and something inside John just uncurled and breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of it.

"It's working, Gabby."

Her name felt wonderful on his tongue.

Gabby leapt back from the screen, revealing that she was in her pyjamas.

"_John!" _Her smile was bright and her hair knotted up in a messy bun, so unlike the no nonsense styles of all the female crew in the _United Front. _

He grinned, a pleasant buzz filling him to the brim. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

She waved a hand, chuckling with a broad grin. "_You know I'm always up early."_

"Unless it's Sunday." He smirked.

Gabby rolled her eyes, blowing out a breath. _"It's my day. Mine. I can sleep in if I want too. Anyway, how are you?" _Her smile dimmed, hazel eyes brimming with worry, "_You haven't had to fight, have you?"_

Her concern was touching. "The Brutes haven't even arrived yet. And I am...well enough."

Blonde brows dipped down mildly, and she kept moving her hands. "_What's wrong? Is the mixed crew getting rowdy?"_

John shook his head, "No, they're getting along fine. I went on a scouting mission with two of the mixed squads, actually. They did well."

"_That's great news. They talk about the crew and squads on the news a lot now."_

"How's public opinion?" He crossed his arms on the desk and leant forward.

Gabby mimicked his movement, finally stilling her fidgeting. _"Mostly good. Some people are still kicking up a stink, buggers. But the crowds outside the elite embassy have died down now."_ She said, "_How's Thel? Still stressing?"_

"Of course he is," he grinned mischievously then, "your wine did help with that though."

"_The wine..."_ Gabby snorted, clapping both hands over her mouth to stifle the laughter, and John wished that she wouldn't, the sound was sorely missed.

Perhaps a little push would help.

"Thel enjoyed it, but Rtas ended up getting drunk."

That did it.

Gabby burst out into loud giggles, eventually dissolving into full blown belly laughter. John grinned and revelled in the sound, eyeing the pink flush coming to life on her cheeks.

After a good minute of laughing, she settled down. _"You got the Ship Master drunk? Only you, John. Only you."_

John shrugged carelessly. "It was your influence. And your gift."

Gabby huffed, "_Of course you would blame me_."

Not blame, he thought privately. Thanking her would be a more accurate term.

"How are you?" He asked.

Gabby smiled sadly. "_Lonely. I miss you. It's kinda sad, but without you across the road my life is kind of a solo act." _

John leant closer to the screen, as if he could just reach through and hold her hand. "I miss you too. And surely Boomer is keeping you company." John stated, trying to keep her smiling.

It worked. Gabby grinned, and the dog in question appeared beside her. He must have been lying on the floor, John guessed. Boomer, at the sound of his name, peered at the screen, barking when John said hello.

Gabby pet the dogs head, _"He misses you too. Oh, and you got mail. It doesn't say who it's from, and it's not a bill. I'll keep it safe until you get home."_

"Thank you," John said sincerely, "and be careful with my mail, hate mail is a possibility."

Gabby stared at him, stunned by this. _"Where did that come from? The only people who know who you are would never send hate mail, let alone actually hate you." _She scowled fiercely, and his heart swelled with affection. And something else, something...deeper.

"Not all people are you, Gabby."

That startled a giggle from her, and she pushed a stray hair behind her ear. "_See, that's why people can't hate you. You're too sweet. Oh! They showed us footage of your ship leaving the docks; it was amazing! And massive, that ship is freakin' huge."_

"It's certainly impressive. And before I forget, I need to thank you for teaching me how to play poker."

"_Poker?"_ Gabby blinked, then a cheeky grin curved her lips. "_John, are you using your unfairly awesome skills to trounce marines?"_

John smirked, "Not all the time. And not just against marines. I lost to an elite, she out manoeuvred me."

"_She? I thought the sheila folk of the elites didn't leave Sangheilios?"_

A small message appeared on the screen. It was from Cortana, stating that they only had half an hour left.

Better make the most of it then, John thought as he began retelling the poker game between Alpha, Omega and he.

o**OO**o

Admiral Hood stood on the observation deck. He should have gone to bed hours ago, but his mind was disquiet, unsettled.

They had more to worry about than the Brutes, it seemed.

Reynolds was becoming a serious problem.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Hello lovelies! I rushed to get this done before Christmas, so here it is (in under a month too!)._

_Not sure if I like the direction I've taken Reynolds in. Oh well, let's see where it goes!_

_This has not been proof read properly, I'm too tired._

_Much love,_

_Razz_


	30. Chapter 29

_For the sake of this story: Dr. Halsey is still lost in deep space with Blue Team (something I vaguely recall from one of the books), and is not already on Earth. Further explanations with occur in the story. I wrote myself into a bit of a corner with this and will try to make it work, but feel free to ask any questions. I will do my best to answer._

_And in this chapter we reunite some long lost friends, but not the ones you were expecting. ;)_

_Much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

_Chapter 29_

Nicholi seemed to have a knack for cornering John when he was in an elevator.

John was making his way to the command deck, as Admiral Hood had ordered, and it was just as he pressed the button that the representative slipped through the doors.

As he brushed down his immaculate suit, John idly wondered if he had been hiding around the corner and waiting for John to use it. The thought made him both smirk and feel a coil of disquiet.

"You have undoubtedly been summoned by our illustrious Admiral as well, Spartan?" Nicholi said in way of greeting. "Have you made your decision?"

He did not need to say in regards to what.

John almost chuckled darkly, knowing the plot Cortana and Hood had cooked up for Nicholi.

"I...yes," he said softly, folding his arms across his chest to make his visage seem uncertain and guarded, Cortana, already within the suits systems, mutely applauded his acting.

Nicholi's green eyes seemed poisonous as they glimmered with pleasure, a smirk slowly spread across his face. "An excellent decision. Shall we?" He removed something from his pocket, a small silver tube with a jack on one end. It likely had a dumb A.I. inside.

With true reluctance, John reached up and removed the helmet. The accompanying hiss and click echoed in the elevator, and John made sure that his face was blank as it was revealed.

Nicholi barely spared a glace towards John, he only had eyes for the metallic green prize in his hands. John did find some amusement in how surprised the other was by the weight of it.

"What are you going to do with the information?"

Nicholi busied himself with fitting the device to the helmet, "See the truth for myself, then sell it to the highest bidder. Do not worry yourself over your identity, I will not reveal that to anyone." He muttered, fiddling with the tube. "What I owe you will be transferred into your suits systems, you may wish to wait until after the assembly to review it however. It will likely leave you quite distracted."

"And what are your intentions for the assembly?" John hedged, seeing a panel slip out of the device and light flicker.

Nicholi chuckled, "To secure new mining sites, possibly reclaim some of my old ones. Certain planets and moons have a higher percentage of resources, and I will need to provide such information when the territory lines are set up."

John raised a brow, "others think differently."

Nicholi also quirked a brow up, finally shifting his gaze to meet John's.

"You mean Arabella? Of course, my delegate for the crew," he chuckled, rolling his eyes, "If she is concerned about my behaviour during the actual assembly, she need not worry, I have no intentions of causing a fuss. I was merely having a spot of fun."

A spot of fun indeed, John quietly fumed. Giving the crew, one of the representatives and the Admiral such grief before such an important occasion was a foolish way to have _fun_.

"There we go, all done." Nicholi said as the lights shone green. "My thanks for your cooperation."

John jammed the helmet back on with a harsh tug and snap as Nicholi carefully slipped the tube into his inner coat pocket, patting it possessively with a sneer. "You have done humanity a great service."

John almost laughed at his confidence then, but he restrained from doing so.

Cortana had no such qualms about cutting off the speakers and filling his ears with laughter.

"_And the ass nailing begins."_

o**OO**o

Thankfully they split apart once they reached the command deck. Nicholi ventured over towards Howard and Arabella, his swagger somewhat more pronounced, and John sidled up beside the Admiral.

"Sir," he saluted.

Hood stood still, gazing out towards the planet.

Cortana integrated with the _United Fronts_ systems even though she was still inside John's suit, her proximity and the subroutines already in place in the ships systems allowing her to do so without proper integration.

"_I'm picking up a slipspace disturbance approximately five miles off the starboard side." _She said, and everyone was still, peering out into the void as it became visible. The swirling mass expanded until the ship itself emerged.

It was large, massive even, and still bared to traditional deep purple of the Covenant. It was one of the Super Cruiser's, one of the monoliths every human feared seeing hovering above their planet.

"_IFF confirmed, it's the Brutes."_

"Is the ship one we've seen before?" Hood asked, clasping his hands at the small of his back.

A moment passed. _"Negative. Their hail reads that they are the representatives of the Covenant and a skeleton crew for the _Hammer of the Gods."

A snort came from behind them; a second later Thel appeared.

"Brutes are fond of hammers. Uncreative louts." The elite growled, scowling at the ship as his fangs flashed menacingly.

John stood still, eyes following the ship as if he could see the Covenant inside.

He wondered if there were Prophets aboard, or had the Brutes become a new faction of the Covenant, separatists of a sort.

"They anything else?" Hood asked.

"_Yes. Their representatives comprise of the Brute High Chieftain, and two lesser Chieftains, plus two representatives for the Grunts, Jackals and Hunters each; which makes their group nine strong. Although, the Hunters are apparently a separate faction, but wish to be included in the assembly."_

"Curious," Thel said, voice a low rumble as sunset eyes steadily gazed at the cruiser, "I expected that the Grunts would follow the Brutes leadership, and it was likely for the Drones to leave, mindless creatures that they are, but the Hunters defection is a...welcome surprise."

"Was recruiting the Hunters a difficult enterprise?" John tilted his head to the side, filling his mind with questions and answers so that he would not think of the information laying in wait in the suits software. Cortana had to know that it was eating at him, burning away in his head like embers, just waiting to take root and burst.

"More than difficult, though it was long ago. Many lives were lost."

"_Sir,"_ Cortana seemed...nervous or anticipatory, John couldn't tell at the moment, but everyone on deck stilled in their tasks once more at her voice, Hood even turned away from the window, instead frowning. _"They've also stated that they have humans rescued from a vessel lost in deep space."_

"What?" Hood snapped, eyebrows disappearing beneath the brim of his hat.

"_They came across the UNSC Spirit of Fire on a scouting mission."_

John's heart felt like it should have stopped, his breath should have frozen in his lungs. But he was a Spartan, so he merely tensed while the chaos erupted behind his eyes. He knew about that ship, her part in the battle for Reach, and her crew. He knew some members of that crew very well.

Could it be...

John wet his lips, mouth suddenly bone dry. He said the A.I.'s name, but found he couldn't, his voice has deserted him.

"_The remaining crew is awake, healthy, and eager to come aboard. The Brutes are asking for permission to send over three Phantoms, with only the Covenant pilots in each, with our people. Identities confirmed by protocol Identify: 1923Aplha via the Spirit of Fire's Smart A.I. Serina." _

That was what she said over the loudspeakers, but then she added for John's ears only, inside his helmet: "_Red Team members Alice, Jerome and Douglas are also aboard, John."_

John let his eyes fall shut, and he just took a moment to breathe. It seemed so difficult to draw that first gulp in, but he did it, and suddenly it became so much easier.

Thel shifted, hissing in surprise, which brought John out of his turmoil. "What?" He said quietly enough that only Hood would overhear them over the applauding of the crew as the Admiral sent the word for their people to be returned.

Even as he itched to bolt for the docking bay, John was concerned for his friend.

Thel's gaze served to meet his through the visor. "The _Spirit of Fire_ is almost as famous as yourself, Demon," he said with something akin to awe as he reverted to John's old label from the Covenant, "it was they that destroyed a fleet of Forerunner constructs that would have ended the war with a fierce swiftness, and killed a large portion of Regret's troops. They were labelled as the Wrathful Fire, for one of their number also ended the life of the previous Arbiter. Ripa Moramee; a formidable warrior with a ruthlessness many would find themselves hard pressed to match."

This, John thought, could cause a problem. Thel wore the exact armour, passed down through generations of Arbiters. John did not know what Ripa looked like, but to many the Elites were all one and the same, the only thing separating them the colour of their armour in many instances.

John wondered what kind of reception their Elite allies would receive from the recovered crew, his Spartans especially. Their reactions to Thel, let alone John's friendship with him, sent a spike of nausea through his gut.

The Admiral seemed to have similar concerns, as he pursed his lips and took a step closer the two of them. "Cortana, I want a platoon down there. Chief," he said, meeting John's eyes with a knowing smirk, "I hear you have some friends aboard. Dismissed."

John was exceedingly thankful, and with a departing salute, he spun on his heel and left the room.

o**OO**o

More than just an armed platoon waited for the MIA crew to arrive. A large number of others had gathered. Ulys, Stevenson, Mia'tee and Haze stood at the back of the crowd, and John acknowledged them with a quick nod as he pushed through the crowd. Though once they registered that it was he making his way through, they parted quickly.

John took his place behind the armed platoon, nearly bouncing on the spot in anticipation. Energy, nervous and hopeful, was surging through is body in waves that left John wanting to run for miles and miles until his lungs burned and his limbs were leaden.

Spartans were always listed as missing in action, but knowing that they were alive was a wondrous thing. For John and for the people, it would do a world of good for morale, and would also have their possible enemies thinking twice about starting up a new battle. There was not one Spartan now, but four, not including the soon to arrive Kirk and Rene.

The very air seemed to tremble as the Phantoms became visible beyond the atmospheric barrier that kept the docks pressurised.

The commander of the platoon barked orders at his marines. Weapons raised and bodies ready, they focused on the incoming dropships with an unwavering gaze. The shield rippled and wavered like disturbed water as the ships finally came through, and John's heart steadily climbed further up his throat.

There was a tenseness to the air as the Phantom's lowered and activated their gravity lifts, and then, in groups of threes and fours, the crew of the _Spirit of Fire _descended. It was last, at long last, as the newcomers were welcomed with cheers and handshakes that his Spartan's appeared.

The two crews merged, becoming a mess of grinning _unharmed_ bodies as the Phantoms drew away and flew back out of the docking bay, and John was distantly aware of it all.

And then, like some kind of magic, three little green dots appeared on his visor, and John laughed. He laughed and his eyes were strangely moist, but he made his way through the sea of people towards his Spartans, and he smiled so widely that his cheeks hurt.

John reached them, and they stood still for a moment, just to savour it.

"Damn," Douglas said, pulling his helmet off and smirking, "it's good to see you, John."

Alice and Jerome did the same, and John pulled his off as the laughter consumed him again, shaking him to the bones as it rumbled and cracked in his chest.

"Likewise." John said, and then they began clapping shoulders and hands and John didn't think that he could stop smiling even if he tried.

o**OO**o

A barest of smiles graced Hood's aged face as he observed the mingling crews. The smile grew as a woman, Engineer Becketts, if he recalled correctly, cried and threw herself at an equally delighted looking man from the _Spirit of Fire's_ crew.

This was wonderful news, astonishing even, and such a move had him both wary and elated. It troubled him that this courtesy on the Brutes behalf could be a ruse, a ploy, to gain trust. But it also gave him hope that the assembly could go smoothly, and the desires for peace were true.

Two figure's stood apart from the crowd. One, he recognised immediately. Captain Cutter, a man nearly as old and experience as Hood himself. He stood with a familiar dignity, posture straight and proud. The person beside him took Hood a moment to recall.

"_Ah, yes," _Hood thought as the memory came to him. He had never personally met Professor Ellen Anders, but her work had crossed his desk before. A brilliant researcher, one that had served under Hasley on occasion, and was a leading expert in several fields.

They both stood, observing the few Sangheili milling about with distrust. Cutter of course kept his face blank, but Hood knew the gleam in them all too well to ignore it. Hood almost sighed at the possible outbursts that would surely follow when they were all brought up to speed. He also had no idea what the Brutes had let the _Spirit of Fire's_ members know.

It did warm an old, forgotten thing in his heart to see four Spartans grinning and laughing off to the side, though. Whispers and glances were already being directed their way, but people remained at a respectful distance.

Best get the debriefing out of the way, he thought while meeting the eyes of Captain Cutter. The other nodded respectfully, before saying something to Anders. The woman's intelligent gaze left it's perusal of the crew and ship, instead zooming in on himself.

Hood waved a hand, motioning the two of them up.

Cortana, through his earpiece, sighed.

"_Well, this will be interesting."_

o**OO**o

"So, what our rescuers told us seems to be true," Alice muttered, flinty eyes moving between the few Elites scattered about the bay. The humans outnumbered them by far, and John prepared himself for anything.

"Depends," John said, feeling the grin diminish, "what did they say?"

Three pairs of eyes met his, they were curious and wary, but trusting.

Jerome, in that familiar serenely calm tenor, spoke first. As the leader of Red Team, and technically of a higher rank than John, the questioning fell to him by default.

"That apparently the Elites and humanity have formed an alliance," Jerome murmured, frowning.

John could see the questions forming in their eyes, and he sighed.

"You have a lot to catch up on."

And, John realised with slight relief, it seemed that Admiral Hood would be the one doing it for him.

o**OO**o

"The Flood reached Earth?" Anders nearly hissed in surprise, eyebrows climbing, "We barely survived our encounter with the basics forms, how did you manage against an entire armada on top of the goddamn Covenant invasion?"

Cutter shot a reprimanding look to the woman, but curiosity showed in his thin face as well. The Spartan's were stock still, standing stiff and tall. John, having already been through this, leant against a wall and folded his arms across his chest, here he was merely observing.

They were in one of the conference rooms, as Captain Romada and Commander Shepard had both arrived and taken over sorting through the mess of misplaced crew and would tackle the task of bringing them all up to date. Cortana had jumped ship from John's suit to the ship so that she could keep an eye on everyone and assign quarters to the new crew.

Serina, whose sarcasm rivalled Cortana's wit, made use of the holodeck attached to a corner of the conference table. She chimed in with questions of her own while assisting Cortana in updating the records. And once Serina had been deemed 'fit for duty', the other Smart A.I. would likely be receiving the Forerunner coding that allowed A.I.s to have an extended lifespan.

"That's where the Sangheili come in." Hood said, calmly watching the others for their reactions. "They defected and, to put it bluntly, saved out asses. We lost a chunk of Africa to the parasite, but we could have lost a lot more." He finished solemnly. "After that, through a joint effort, we followed Truth's fleet through the portal and stopped the Flood and ended the war in one fell swoop. And it would have been impossible without the elites help."

They were disgruntled, John could tell, by this news. An enemy that they had fought with, turned desperate ally. It was hard to come to terms with, he knew from experience.

Alice's lips were thin with displeasure, and Douglas's hand slowly clenched into a fist. Jerome had a calculative gleam to his eyes, but otherwise his face remained blank.

Anders scoffed, slicing a hand through the air. It was only Serina's intervention that halted the likely biting comment readying on the woman's lips.

"_It would seem that they've replaced the Arbiter with a new one. They didn't wait long, did they?"_ Her image, that of a young woman in clothing that resembled that of a doctor or a nurse, flickered to life.

"What?" Anders jerked, "Forge killed him."

Cutter's frown deepened, and Cortana activated the second holodeck, adopting her typical cocked hip pose.

"_The Arbiter is a rank, almost like a pseudonym. Only one is appointed at a time, and only when times a desperate. The previous Arbiter, Ripa Moramee ,was the one you faced."_ She explained, tapping into one of the screens and showing an image of the brutish looking elite. His jaws seemed to hang from their hinges, sprouting some of the largest fangs John had ever seen on an elite. Though it was a still image being shown, John knew a look of derangement when he saw it.

A second screen was utilised, and it showed Thel, wearing the same armour, with a far calmer and more dignified grace. The difference between them was astonishing.

Cortana continued, "_This is Thel Vadam, the new Arbiter and the first to defect from the Covenant. His actions were instrumental to defeating the Flood and Truth, and without him, neither John or I would be here."_

John shot her a look, raising a brow as she shrugged with a smirk. She had done that on purpose, mostly to smooth things over with the Spartans.

His Spartan's looked to John for an explanation, but Hood spoke before anyone else could.

"We lost Chief and Cortana, in deep space with only half of a severed ship to house them. The Arbiter made it his personal mission to return at least some of humanities saviours."

John was still uncomfortable with the title, but he swallowed the discomfort and nodded to affirm the claims.

"The portal collapsed as we were coming through, ripping the ship in half. Thel was on the half that made it through to Earth. We weren't." John said shortly, taking note of the surprise in everyone but Hood's eyes when he called Thel by his name, not his title.

"It took a long time, but we finally declared ourselves an Alliance, instead of just allies. The threat of the remaining Covenant was just too much, and Earth," here, Hood sighed deeply, "is all that we had left. The casualties were beyond monumental, and we needed the elites. They need us, too."

Hood had captured the others attention, but Cortana caught his eye, nodding meaningfully towards the other Spartans.

Take a step, then take a leap, John thought.

"Some of us," he began slowly, knowing that all eyes snapped towards him as the gravel of his voice broke the silence, "have even found friends amongst them."

Though John only considered Thel a friend, he also spoke of Alpha and Omega's blossoming interracial friendships. John did have other acquaintances amongst the elites, but at the moment, he did not think them friends.

Jerome blinked. "Thel. The Arbiter."

Their stares seemed to have a physical weight to them, but John refused to look away. John nodded once.

"We fought together, survived together. I trust him with my life, and the sentiment is returned."

Douglas snorted, and without looking Alice clapped him on the shoulder. Hard.

Alice let her stare remain unbroken, she searched John's brown gaze.

"He's saved your life?" She finally asked, and he tensed at the coming judgement.

John pushed away from the wall, facing her fully.

"More than once."

Alice held the stare for a moment longer, then she sighed.

"Alright. I won't break any necks."

John grinned at that, chuckling, which seemed to surprise them all. John had been one of the most stoic and unemotional of the lot of them. At the relief he sensed coming from his Spartan brother, Douglas groaned.

"Fine. I also won't snap any necks."

John looked to Jerome then, and he saw hesitance. But John understood. Jerome was Red Team's leader, he had lead his Spartan's to their deaths, his decisions had lives riding on them, and the Elite's had often been the ones to end them.

Serina piped up then.

"_Might I also add that it would seem the Elites have shared certain medical advances that have allowed Spartans Kirk and Rene to recover from the deformities caused by the augmentation."_

Her image cocked it's head, "_It's all quite fascinating, really."_

That information was highly confidential, and John guessed that Cortana had given the information to the other A.I., as perhaps the Spartans were more likely to accept the information from Serina as she had been their guide.

John's theory was confirmed when Cortana winked at him.

Hiding a smile, John waited.

Finally, Jerome let the lingering tenseness in his shoulder fall.

"Just don't expect me to be having any tea parties with them."

Cortana laughed, "_The stubbornness of Spartan's never ceases to amaze me."_

Hood, watching all of them with dry amusement, huffed.

Now they just had to convince the rest of the crew.

o**O**oo**O**o

_So, I really, __**really **__wanted to get to the assembly, but then Cutter and crew decided to join the party. Oh well, hopefully it was a nice surprise. I might try sticking with shorter chapters with quicker updates._

_Lastly, a few people have mentioned Koriat Cyredanthem's story, A Spartan's Peaceful Heartbeat. While there are some similarities, our stories are vastly different, especially once you get a few chapters in. You should stroll over and give it a squiz._

_Much love,_

_Razz_


	31. Chapter 30

_I am __**really**__ nervous about this chapter. I had about 5000 words written until I was sideswiped by an idea that just could not remain unwritten._

_Also, this chapter, and the next take place at the same time, but from two different perspectives. It will make sense once you read the next chapter._

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

**Chapter 30**

"Is that a female elite?" Douglas muttered.

John nodded, eyes sweeping over Mia'tee and Locksley as they played checkers in a corner of the recreational room. The Spartans were gathered around one of the bar tables. They stood, as they all still wore their armour and the stools would not be able to carry the immense weight.

"I was surprised too." John said.

Alice cocked her head to the side as she gazed at the purple clad elite. "I thought they didn't leave the homeworld." Though it was framed as a statement, John knew it too be a question.

John had brought them here on purpose, hoping that seeing the human and elite crew members interacting would ease the transition of mindsets from 'enemy' to 'ally'. John would need to leave soon for the Pelican taking him and several others to the planet below, and he wanted to be sure that there would be no nasty surprises, for the others and himself, while they were separated.

"Normally, they don't. Mia'tee volunteered to be a part of the mixed squads, and she impressed her trainers."

Jerome shifted, arms crossing over his chest. "Mixed squads?"

John met his eyes, "Alpha and Omega are each comprised of two elites and three humans. We tested them earlier, they did well."

"They work together?"

John smirked, "and without breaking each others necks."

Douglas and he traded fleeting grins while Alice huffed at Johns not at all subtle reminder of their promises.

Falling into a more serious tone, John spoke. "Truthfully, they have a long way to go, but at the moment they are more of a symbol, than a viable fire team."

Jerome steadily met his gaze. "A hope for the future."

John nodded. "But their success will be nothing compared to the news of the 'resurrection' of the Spirit of Fire's crew, not to mention three Spartans."

Douglas made a face, and Alice whacked his shoulder. "If we are ordered to parade about in front of cameras, we will do it without whining." She said, "John's been holding the fort on his own, the least we can do is take some of the pressure off."

John smiled, but it was grim. Unintentionally, Alice had reminded John of the fact that he had indeed been alone for a long time. No other Spartans, no brothers or sisters by his side.

He hadn't even known that any of them were alive until he'd seen that photo of Kirk on Gabby's coffee table.

Jerome, always the perceptive one, which made him an exceptional leader, noticed John's grimace.

"How many others are there, John?" Jerome asked, eyebrows pinching together slightly. _How many of our family are still alive?_

The others went silent, stares unflinching.

John sighed, deep and heavy, "That I know of...two. Kirk and Rene."

Alice's eyes became deep wells of grief, and Douglas hissed a breath in through his teeth. Jerome simply shut his eyes for a moment, but John saw the pain.

"Weren't they..." Alice swallowed, clenching her hand into a fist, "they were disfigured by the augmentation, are they with ONI?"

John shook his head, smiling, which left the others baffled. "Not anymore. The elites had advancements in certain medical fields, with their help, they were able to reverse the damage." He chuckled, "at the moment, they're assigned to wreckage salvagers combing the old outer colonies, searching for survivors and resources, but they're coming home."

John smiled, and let the happiness show, if only in his eyes, "they're being reassigned to one of the orbital defence stations above Australia. _The Atlas._" He supplied when questions began to form. There was an excitement brewing between them, though the sombreness of only _two _other Spartans being alive dampened the glee.

Knowing that people could easily overhear, or would try and eavesdrop if they whispered, they moved on from the topic of their family.

"This ship is quite striking," Alice murmured, "it seems very new."

John drummed his fingers across his helmet, which was sitting under his hand on the table, along with three other helmets, "Very new, it was only finished a month ago. This is her maiden voyage."

"It's certainly impressive," she demurred.

Douglas snorted, "What she means is that this massive ship is freaking awesome. What's her arsenal?"

The answer sitting on the tip of his tongue halted in its tracks as the entrance _swished _open.

Thel and Rtas stepped into the room.

Silence.

Blood humming, John watched his brothers and sister as their faces went blank, and their bodies tense. People scattered through the recreational room eyed the confrontation with eager and wary gazes.

Mia'tee and Locksley exchanged a glance, both forgetting their game.

Thel hovered, but then he swept towards them with grace and dignity, but not arrogance. Rtas stayed back.

By the time the elite reached the group of Spartans John had overheard three crewmen making bets.

"Greetings, Spartans, though you may know me already, I am Thel Vadam, the Arbiter." Thel spoke smoothly, no hint of hostility or caution.

They remained silent, much to John's disappointment.

"I do not mean to interrupt, but we are departing shortly, Master Chief. Admiral Hood requires you presently in the docking bay." Sunset eyes met his briefly. Then Thel inclined his head in farewell, and turned away.

"Arbiter." Jerome said, causing the elite to pause and peer over his shoulder.

"Yes, Spartan?" Thel said when Jerome appeared to level a weighty look at him.

Jerome, in a move that surprised them all, stepped forward and held out his hand.

"Thank you, for saving our brother when we couldn't be there for him."

Eyes flashing with surprise, Thel seemed to stand taller as he accepted the handshake.

"It was my honour." He intoned gravely.

Jerome withdrew and ignored the stunned looks being traded by the crew, whom had all now completely given up the pretence of not spying on the interaction.

Smirking, John clicked his helmet into place and joined the waiting elites.

With a final glance, John gave them a Spartan smile, and then he left the room.

o**OO**o

Hood bent over the holodeck, fingers spread flat across the cool surface, if only to stop them from forming fists.

"What are you up too, Nicholi..." he murmured, frowning at the information Cortana was presenting him with. Serina was helping decode everything. With the addition of two Smart AI's they would be able to break his code, but not before the assembly took place.

"Serina," Hood began, straightening and bringing his hands together at the small of his back, "I want all of your attention on finding out everything you can about Reynolds, but keep an eye on the Brutes. If they so much as sneeze, stop what you're doing and focus everything on them."

"_Aye aye, sir." _

A delicate snort followed that. _"Why don't you just change your avatar to a sailor already, Serina? Or a mermaid? They might fit this navy persona of yours better."_

Hood closed his eyes and prayed for patience. The AI's got on well enough, but they seemed to greatly enjoy having games of wit, or just throwing plain insults at each other.

The avatars pixelated into sight. Cortana in her typical cocked-hip and royal blue, and Serina in her floating pose and doctor garb.

"_Considering your avatars appearance, do you not think it would easier to simply remove the second skin layer and pose naked?"_

Cortana laughed richly, but her eyes narrowed.

"Ladies," Hood broke in before they could start round...whatever they were up too, "enough. Please. Prepare for file dump, Cortana."

With a final glare towards the other AI, Cortana disappeared. "_Alright, yank me, Admiral."_

Serina rose a brow. "_That didn't sound sexual at all."_

The chip in his hand sparked. Hood sighed and left the room.

Damn AI's.

o**OO**o

"_Today is just full of surprises."_

John whole-heartedly agreed with Cortana in that assessment.

The High Chieftain was massive, clearing almost eight feet in height, and had well-groomed grey fur. Beads and ribbons of red were interwoven into the braids that dangled from his chin, jaw and head. The strangest thing though was the keen intelligence in the viridian of one eye, the other was milky white, a wicked scar dragged through it.

"_This one looks like he might be able to string something intelligible together without drooling and grunting like savage dog._"

John said nothing as they filed into the room and took their seats on the metal coated steps. Light poured in through the massive circular hole in the ceiling, and a faint breeze played with hair and fur alike.

Silence reigned as the two, or three including the Hunters separate party, observed the others.

Then:

"Greetings, Mgalekgolo, Humans and Sangheili, we come with peaceful intentions, and hopes for a warless co-existence." The High Chieftain rumbled, thumping a closed fist over its heart. The lesser Chieftains stood either side of the massive white Brute, doing the same action with their hands, and letting loose deep hums as they dipped their heads.

Everyone had studied up on Brutes behaviour before the assembly, little as that information was. This behaviour was, at least, something they knew. It was a sign of greeting, the low hums.

Admiral Hood stood, steel eyed gaze steady. "We thank you, and we also have hopes for a peaceful co-existence."

Thel stood then, flanked by Rtas on the left, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and resonating. "The Sangheili and Humanity welcome this assembly, we represent our individual races, but also the Alliance, comprised of both parties. I am The Arbiter, and I speak for the Sangheili."

When the Hunters stood, John held his breath. Too many battles of blazing green fire, the shriek of cannons and guttural growling flashed before his minds eye. They both stood, and when they spoke it allowed him to breathe easier as instead of deep, gravely tones, their voices were sonorous, and calm. Almost gentle.

"We are representing the Mgalekgolo, separate faction from the Alliance, and the New Covenant. We represent our own race and interests, and we wish for peace and to remain apart from further alliances. We are representatives Idigo and Uleentu."

The cannons and shield were missing, instead gleaming blue plates and 'fingers' were affixed. The spikes on their back were exchanged for heavy plates or iridescent blues and purples, depending on the light the colours shifted. They weren't hulking giants of metal and death anymore, they were...Mgalekgolo.

They had been informed that this was the procedure. Each member that represented something would introduce themselves, while the consultants and advisors would not.

The High Chief remained standing while the lesser Chiefs sat. "I am High Chief Gartallicus, and I represent the Jirahallee as well as the New Covenant." The newly introduced Brute sat, intelligent eyes flashing over to Admiral Hood.

Hood stood, "I am Admiral Terrance Hood, and I represent humanity and the Alliance."

This is how it went for the introductions. The Brutes were made of three large clans, Gartallicus's was the dominant one at the moment. Only one Grunt, Hic Ta, introduced himself, lending the assumption that the second was either an assistant of some kind or an advisor. Jal'teiss and Rtas both stood, representing technology and the armed forces respectively.

The human representatives also introduced themselves. Harold held himself with a stern, unyielding air. Arabella was cool, and John smirked when she purposefully met the gaze of the High Chieftan. Nicholi seemed to hold back on the sneers, but John could see the contempt lurking beneath the careful facade.

At the sight of the too-intelligent green eyes assessing everyone in the room, an uneasy feeling settled in his gut.

"Keep an eye on Nicholi," John murmured to Cortana with the speakers disabled, "I have a feeling."

"_You're telling me this as if it hadn't already occurred to me," _she replied, _"Serina had taken over digging up the dirt on him so I can focus on this though."_

"You sound disappointed." John remained seated, not needing to introduce himself for various reasons.

Cortana snorted. _"I had been enjoying myself. Getting permission to find all the dirty little secrets is just icing on the cake."_

They tuned back to the assembly as introductions finally finished.

"We would first like to establish territories, neutral and otherwise, if this is agreeable to yourselves." Gartallicus began. Hood and Arbiter conceded. "Good. Obviously homeworlds and their accompanying systems will be deemed the territory of the respective parties. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Thel intoned. Hood said the same.

They began discussing further borders, grouping star systems by necessity of travel, resources and such.

"_It would be simpler to just bring out a map of the galaxy and draw a line down the middle." _Cortana huffed, bringing up a map and marking a line through it. _"Everything they've agreed upon so far adheres to that outcome . See, we've already gotten back most of the colony worlds, and all of the central planets."_

The map proved correct in that assessment. The Alliances territory was shaded green at the moment, and he could see that there was a secure route between Earth and Sangheilos, with several planets which had been deemed usable for re-colonisation and farming enroot. Things were going well.

Wait.

John's eyes narrowed, zooming in on Nicholi.

"Cortana," he warned.

"_I see it, Chief."_

"What is he-"

There was a horrific shrieking sound, like metal shearing across metal. It blasted inside and outside his helmet, sending the Brutes and Elites clapping hands over their ears as their hearing was more sensitive. John jerked and tried to pull his helmet off, but the sound had disoriented him, making his vision shaky and coordination off-kilter. It was like a sonic blast, designed to disorientate the enemy._ "There is some kind of virus in the suit, Chief!" _every visual on the HUD flickered, Cortana had red streaks running over her. "_It's taking control! I can't, ugh!"_

His shield gave out in a wave, blasting at everyone nearby. It had a chain reaction to any other devices and armour in the room, as even though his vision was blurred, John could make out the elites and grunts armours giving out in showers of sparks.

There was a roar from one of the brutes amidst the cries of the grunts and humans.

John's suit began to move.

"Cortana!" he shouted, horror struck as the amour ignored his commands.

"_It's...virus...m fighting...control!"_

There was more static and high-pitched whines, but John was able to make out one more words from the AI.

Nicholi.

John looked up, unable to move the helmet itself but able to shift his eyes, and saw Nicholi standing up. He pulled a pair of plugs from his ears, tossing them to the ground carelessly.

The representative brushed down his suit, smoothing wrinkles out with a calm air before stepping over a bent over Arabella and making his way towards John.

'Got you', Nicholi mouthed, lips pulling up into a sneer. Green eyes gleamed, and John tried to move, to do anything, but _nothing happened. _

The virus, he quickly put together with a sinking feeling, Nicholi must have downloaded something in his suit that even Cortana had been unable to detect.

As if he knew what John was thinking, Nicholi pulled the silver tube from his pocket and waved it. His smile said it all.

"Reynolds," Hood barked, staggering to his feet. His eardrums had burst, blood leaked from his ears. The others were in a similar state.

John could feel wetness on his neck too.

"Yes, Admiral?" Nicholi asked in a perfectly polite tone, angling his head to the side invitingly.

John wanted to snap the bastards neck.

"What the hell is going on?"

"You'll find out soon enough. All of you." With a particularly disgusted glance towards the New Covenant members, most of whom were finding their feet sluggishly.

"Spartan," Thel growled, "do something."

Many eyes swivelled towards John, and he though he spoke no sounds left the helmet. Nicholi smiled again, giddy and victorious.

"Master Chief cannot help you, filth," he spat at Thel, stroking the silver tube in awe, "he is no longer in control of that infamous MJOLNIR armour."

"You bastard," Arabella hissed as Harold helped her to her feet. Those heels were not helping at all. They both looked far too pale, shaken. "What have you done?"

Nicholi strode out of the chamber, stopping at the threshold. He contemplated the silver tube in his hand again. "Perhaps the question you should ask is not what I have done, but what am I going to do. Spartan, activate your energy sword."

Anger swept over him in a hot tide as the armour moved against his will, the order itself was perverse since John had no control over his actions. That did not mean that he stopped fighting though. John never stopped fighting.

With a snarl, John wrenched his arm back, succeeding in only making his arm tremble. The pommel was in his hand already, and with a jerk that was far from his usually grace the sword flashed to life.

"Kill Harold Ritbelli," Nicholi said, unfolding the tube into some kind of headset and fitting it over his ear. "Your greatest saviour is nothing more than a puppet now. Well, he was always a puppet, but now the strings are in my hands."

The suit was stiff in it's movement with how hard John resisted, but Harold only had enough time to shove Arabella out of harms way before the deadly weapon had pierced his gut.

The man grunted and doubled over, and one hand gripped uselessly at the plating on John's forearm.

"Dammit, Reynolds..." he breathed. John's arms pulled back, deactivating the sword as Harold collapsed, eyes falling shut. John shut his eyes for a moment, unable to stop the guilt from forming.

Arabella scrambled over and felt for a pulse, but John knew that he was dead.

"Cortana!" he called desperately, but no discernable answer came.

"Come outside."

The suit obeyed Reynolds command immediately. Shepherd stumbled and crashed into Jal'teiss, but gunned after him. Reynolds had been pulling out several objects and slotting them together while this was happening, and when John was clear, he held the device up and activated it. With a flash and a sharp noise a barrier was erected.

Shepherd only just managed to stop herself from running head long into the blue barrier, and John was able to see that it circled the chamber entirely.

"I've got a fair few tricks up my sleeve for today," Nicholi teased. "Toys that will blow your minds. Literally too." He frowned slightly, "Though technically the armour and its fail safe against foreign study was not _my _idea."

John's heart was steady, but he swallowed as the implications sunk in. Nicholi was going to activate the last resort in his suit, likely right where he was standing.

The blast...it would kill everyone. The deaths of so many dignitaries would lead to accusations being thrown about, cries of terrorism and betrayal. Factions would split apart, alliances would fall and the peace – the peace he had fought so hard and lost so much for – would be gone.

Nicholi wanted to start another war.

John grit his teeth and tried again and again and again to move, but to no avail.

He heard footsteps. A pair, one measured and confidant, the other unsure and stumbling. They were coming from behind, the direction of the forest.

Nicholi chuckled, and it was a dangerous sound, full of pleasure and glee. "What I am going to do, dear Arabella, is become the instrument of chaos and...here we are now." Nicholi turned to face whoever had come up behind them. "You're late."

There was a sigh, and it was from male.

"There were complications."

"The state of your nose attests to that." Nicholi said with that insufferable smirk.

"What is the meaning of this, Reynolds?" Hood said gruffly. The others, most of whom had clustered behind the barrier and watched the unfolding events with grim eyes. They shifted like the sea, alternating between glaring at Nicholi, staring worriedly at John and watching the newcomers with anxiety. They all still looked woozy, with pale faces and blood leaking from their ears.

The two strangers moved a little closer, finally coming into John's field of vision. Nicholi met his eyes through the visor, and he had a satisfied air about him that chilled John to the bone.

There was a man in combat gear, with a broken nose that had clearly not been attended to by a medic but by an amateur, and he held a hostage. It was a woman, dirty and barefoot with a bag over her head.

Something hot and cold as the same time shivered up his spine and sunk into his brain, driving claws deep into his heart and mind as John looked closer. Those jeans, the tear on the left knee looked familiar, as did the pattern of freckles spotting her arms randomly. Something inside his was screaming that this woman was familiar, and that she was important, and then the bag was ripped away and his lungs didn't seem to work properly anymore.

It was Gabby.

o**O**oo**O**o

_I have a Tumblr now. One person I follow has opened up the 'ask' box for people to direct questions to both herself, and her characters. It seems like a good exercise, so if people are interested my username is __**birds-bees-and-wobbly-knees. **__There is an unbroken link on my profile. More information is there as well. Direct the question to either myself or Gabby, anything you like!_

_The next chapter is almost ready, I just need to polish it off. I'll aim to have it up within two days._

_Also, please don't kill me for this._

_Much love, _

_Razz_


	32. Chapter 31

_I hope everything will make a little bit more sense now. This chapter begins a two days before the assembly takes place._

_A lot of people were asking about why Gabby was there, and this will be revealed in later chapters._

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbour is a Spartan**_

**Chapter 31**

Gabby kneaded her forehead, right between her eyebrows, more from consternation than actual pain. "I am not answering that." She muttered into the phone, cheeks flushing as she swallowed a mouthful of whiskey.

"_Seriously? It's usually the first thing I ask about any guy you show interest in."_

"Third, actually." Gabby corrected mildly, mouth twitching into a small but fond grin. "And I'll rephrase; I can't tell you that."

"_Oh, well, have you seen his feet at least? Hands? Forearm? They're not correct in measurements but they usually give you a general idea."_

Gabby let her forehead thud lightly onto the dark, warm wood of her desk. She blew out a long sigh. "It hasn't been something that I've thought about."

"_What?" _Her friend gasped, drawing in a mocking sound of shock and horror, "_I know it's been a long time since you've been laid, so how the hell can you not be thinking about his penis?"_

Gabby sat back up and wiped a hand down her face. "Monica," she said in warning.

"_C'mon, gimme something here, hun!" _Her friend pleaded, likely pulling on one of her wild curls of hair in frustration. _"At least an indication of size! Or let me estimate, how tall is he? Shoe size?"_

Gabby groaned, glaring at the ceiling. Finally, after a stubborn silence and more whining from Monica, she mumbled the requested details.

Monica was silent; a rare thing for the vivacious and boisterous woman who ran her own sex therapy practice. Gabby remained quiet too, waiting for the inevitable outburst. One of Monica's most coveted skills, and by coveted, Gabby meant 'one of the most hilarious while tipsy skills', was the ability to gauge the size of a mans junk just by looking at them. Or when she couldn't see them, like in this case, she went of height and shoe size.

Even though those wives tales were scientifically proven to be false, Monica had her own equations that were somehow always right. Monica called it her women's insight. Gabby called it her horney sixth sense.

"_You're going to need to do yoga again."_

"Monica!" Gabby scolded, blushing quite heavily now. "...really?"

Monica laughed, and it was her true belly laugh, deep and heavy, so she sounded like a seal begging for a fish.

Knocking back the last of her drink, Gabby started pacing. "Can we please be serious for a moment?"

"_Oh, alright, ruin my fun, why don't you."_

"As much as I enjoy your 'dick database' when we've had a few drinks, I really need your thoughts on this, Mon." Fingers tugged on her blond hair with frustration, "...I really don't know what to do."

Her voice, though not trembling, was certainly full of the confusion that had been driving her insane for the last few days. She was lost, and Monica finally seemed to pick up on it.

"_Crikey, hun, you didn't say you were this turned around."_

Gabby fell into her couch, laughing without humour. "I'm just...buggered."

Monica sighed, _"And not in the good way. Okay, I think you need to come down for tea. This is a face-to-face kind of chat."_

She snorted, smirking. "Only if it's the long island kind of tea."

Monica tittered. _"Come around after schools out, I'll dump my lovely hellions off at their grandmothers house for a sleepover so we can have to house to ourselves. Oh, we should call Lindsey over, have a gaggle and giggle." _

"Yeah, at my expense." Gabby huffed, away from the receiver, then louder: "Sounds like a plan, see you later."

"_Later, lovely, and leave that darling dog of yours at home, please, it took us hours to get Sebby down from the tree last time Boomer slobbered all over him."_

Rolling her eyes, Gabby laughed lightly, feeling her mood lift at the prospect of spending time with two of her closest friends.

Which was fantastic, since one of Gabby's other close friends was currently floating about in space.

o**OO**o

With a small grin despite the coming horror, Gabby climbed out of her truck and banged on the front door.

"_And let the interrogation begin." _

The door swung open, and a petite women with a head full of fire-engine red curls was revealed. Her smile was toothy, mirroring Gabby's.

"Get your sorry ass inside, Edwards, we have much drinking to accomplish."

Huffing out a laugh, Gabby accepted the smaller woman's hug before doing just that. Monica bounced after her with an excited air. "It's nice to see you too, Mon."

Grinning toothily, Monica latched onto her arm, practically dragging her into the family room. "Yes yes, hello, how are you, that's nice." She babbled, waving her free hand about airily, "What I really want to know, my emotionally distraught friend, is just _who_ is this man that has you all in a tizz. Details, hun, gimmie the details."

"And make 'em juicy!" Another voice hollered from the kitchen, "Don't start without me though!"

Gabby curled up on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her. A second later the blender started up, filling the house with a horrible, grinding noise.

Hazel eyes flicked over to the red-haired woman as she giggled. "Starting early, are we?"

"Of course, we're saving the heavier stuff for later though, it's just Malibu and coke slushies for now."

Rolling her eyes, Gabby reached out with her foot and knocked Monica from her perch on the couch arm. With another laugh, she knocked Gabby's foot away with a smirk. "Seems like you need to loosen up, of course, you could always ask this man of yours to help..." she trailed off suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

Uncharacteristically, Gabby felt a blush heat her face, which sent Monica into a fit of laughter. "He's not my man." Her protest went ignored. While Monica tittered, Gabby grumbled and pet the grey fluffball that was the Green family cat. "You believe me don't you, Sebastian?"

The cat blinked up at her with bright yellow eyes, and unsurprisingly remained quiet.

"Oh, deary, asking the cat to be your back-up, tsk tsk." Lindsey said, blowing into the room in her usual unsubtle manner. Her hair, dyed blue at the moment, was pinned atop her head with a pair of hair sticks. The white wood, with silver tips and embedded green stones, were the pair that Gabby had made for her years ago. Gabby thought back on this with a fondness, even as the woman grinned at her saucily while shoving a tall glass into her hands.

"Now give us the deets, and make it snappy!" Lindsey ordered as she spread across the loveseat, taking a generous sip of her drink.

"And talk slow." Monica added, smirking devilishly.

"Very slow, this is the first man that you've shown interest in since that Jason fiasco four years ago."

Gabby took a long pull, shivering as the ice hit her throat. Her tactic only delayed the inevitable though.

"What details do you two harpies want?" She gave in with a deep sigh, ignoring the horrified screaming in her head. This was going to be a nightmare, but they were her friends, so Gabby would indulge them.

The alcohol would help with this.

"First," Monica held up a finger, "we need to know how you met. He's not local, I'm guessing."

Gabby nodded, tracing a finger around the rim of her glass. "John's the new owner of Frank's old place. Boomer decided to be the welcoming party, that's how we met." Another mouthful of the too sweet drink went down her throat.

"Where's he from?"

Gabby didn't meet Lindsey's eyes, unsure how to answer that question. Quickly, she settled on: "Nowhere, really. John's just retired from the UNSC, he hasn't really had a home since Reach burned."

The playfulness dulled briefly in their eyes, both had lost family and friends to the Covenant war. The hurt, the pain, of losing them would never disappear entirely, and they understood now. They wouldn't ask Gabby for any details about John's past anymore. That was something too private to touch upon, too sacred a secret to share.

God, she loved them both.

They recovered quickly, putting the untouchable behind them with barely a blink.

"Okay, so he's ex-UNSC. That means _fit_."

"Physical details. Now."

Monica flapped her hand at Lindsey. "Screw that, show us a photo." She ordered, setting her drink down and bouncing into the spot beside Gabby. The couch bounced, jiggling the startled blonde. Setting her drink down quickly, in fear of a spill, and eyed the other warily. "Where's your phone? Lemme see his contact picture."

With reluctant movements, Gabby pulled her phone out and opened John's contact. This picture was taken three weeks after they met, after a few beers in the tavern. John wasn't really smiling, but there was a small lift to the corner of his mouth. It was the almost- smirk that Gabby had come to recognise as his 'I like you so I am going to go along with whatever it is that you are doing' grin.

Monica snatched her phone away, giggling as she did so. Gabby picked up her drink and took another large mouthful.

"Damn. Now that is chisel-jawed man...and the stubble is a hella hot touch...and that _body._"

"_Body?" _Gabby jerked away from her drink and saw that Monica had opened the photo gallery. "Monica!"

She reached for the phone, only for the other to leap from the couch and scurry to Lindsey's side. Snarling, Gabby evil-eyed to two witches as they giggled over all the photos of John. There weren't many, thank heaven. He put up with her whims, but wasn't particularly fond of photographs or cameras.

Lindsey spluttered as she looked on, brown eyes going wide. "Holy-God_damn_! How have you not climbed him like a tree? He's built like a freakin' Greek god!"

Monica grinned, eyes still glued to the screen. It was probably the photo Gabby took during the barbeque by the river with Rangi's family. "A Greek god of sexy."

Gabby's cheeks flushed; he was soaking wet in a white shirt in that image.

"Now I'll admit, he's not your man-model kind of gorgeous," Monica began, trading an equal cat-caught-the-canary grin with Lindsey. "Certainly not beautiful, but he certainly has the tall, dark and handsome look _down_. Lovely eyes, too."

"Those scars don't detract from that at all, maybe we should re-name him the Greek god of war and sexy?"

"Wait a second..." Monica squinted at the screen, turning it around in her delicate hands. "I've met him before..._oh._" She began chortling, throwing her head back as it became loud peals of laughter.

Gabby frowned at her suspiciously. "What?"

Monica started snorting, doing her fabulous seal impression. Lindsey was just as confused as Gabby.

Finally, after settling down and fanning at her tearing eyes. "I've met him before, he was the guy that caught me at the markets weeks ago."

"The one that actually made you blush? _You?_"

Monica had the audacity to wink at them both. "You betcha. And these photos don't do the man justice, oh honey, oh deary," she danced over to Gabby's side again, taking her hands and petting her cheeks. "You are definitely going to have to start doing yoga again."

Lindsey snorted, "he's ranked that high on the Dick Database?"

"Well," Monica began grandly as Gabby snatched her hands back. "If my estimates are correct, which they usually are, he is in the top three."

Lindsey began cackling like the witch she was, Monica began salivating over the images in her phone with renewed interest, and Gabby...

Gabby needed a stronger drink.

"So," Monica heaved, waving the phone grandly through the air. "Girl likes boy. Does the boy like the girl though?"

Raking a hand through her blond hair with frustration, Gabby huffed. "I don't know if I "like" him though," she started to explain, pleased when the two finally caught on to how much this was troubling the woman. "I don't know if it's just because I miss him while he's away, or if I do have romantic feelings for him."

Monica leaned back, grinning slightly. "First things first, he lives across the road from you, but how much time do you spend together?"

Taking a moment to think about it Gabby pursed her lips, drumming her fingers on her knee. "We see each other almost every day. We have dinner and play poker every Friday night. We go to the markets together..." Gabby trailed off as Lindsey started snorting behind her hand. "What now?"

Monica looked at her with that small grin, "You guys are acting like a couple already. Only without the sexy bits."

Huffing, Gabby said, "We do not!" Then repeating, in a smaller, less convincing voice: "We do not."

Lindsey stopped revelling in her amusement long enough to give Gabby a sympathetic look. "You do, hun. Just think about how much you miss him after he's been gone for...how long?"

"Five days."

They both blinked. "A week." Lindsey muttered incredulously. "_A week._"

"How can you understand other people so well, but be so completely dense when it comes to yourself?" Monica sighed. "Okay. You hang out almost every day. You do trips, regularly, into town to-ge-ther. And he's been gone five days and you're climbing the walls. It seems like you certainly do have romantic feelings for Johnny boy."

Gabby buried her face in her hands, which confused the other two. They traded perplexed looks, feeling the amusement dwindle as Gabby sighed heavily.

"Shouldn't you be happy?"

Gabby peered at Lindsey through her splayed fingers, heaving another sigh. "If the situation wasn't so complicated, I guess I would be."

"Complicated? How so?" Monica's red curls swayed as she tilted her head to the side. "Is there another women? Widower? Gay?"

"No, it's none of those...it's just that...well, I don't know how to approach this."

Auburn eyebrows rose as Lindsey leaned closer and asked in unison, "Becaaaaause?"

"John's never been-he hasn't," Gabby growled in frustration, "He's never been with anyone before, he was mixed up in the war with the rebels and then the Covenant and didn't have any real stability." This was the easiest way that Gabby could explain his induction into the Spartan training program without revealing his identity. "And...almost everyone he fought with, his friends and family, are dead. Just, gone. If told him about my feelings, and he didn't feel the same, our friendship could just fall apart, and I'd lose him, and he'd lose me...I don't want him to be alone."

Gabby stared at her fingers, eyes following the water droplets glinting on her skin. This is what had been rolling around in her mind and making her almost physically sick with worry. If she lost him, he'd be alone. Sure, Rick was a friend. And Kirk and Rene were coming back...but Gabby did not hesitate to call him one of her best friends. He called on her if some everyday civilian thing left him flummoxed, he let her compile his shopping list.

This fear of him being alone was nauseating, but what made her heart start fluttering in panic was the fact that she was scared to lose him. Her life would be so much less without him. Her Fridays would be without laughter filled dinners and poker games. Her trips to the markets would be without his warm, comforting presence. There would be no strong body beside her on the couch on stormy nights while they watched old movies.

"Oh, honey." Monica sat down on the couch arm, laying her cheek on Gabby's head as she wrapped her arms around the distraught woman.

"I don't know what to do." Gabby said helplessly as Lindsey joined in on the hug.

"You can't keep this to yourself, you need to talk to him."

Gabby sighed at the very thought is such a conversation. The apprehension made goosebumps pimple on her skin, and a cold chill rush through her body.

"What if I lose him? I can't..."

Lindsey gave her shoulder a squeeze. "What if you don't? What if you get everything you wanted since you were nine?"

Monica made a disapproving noise, "Perhaps it's the 'what ifs' that are making this more confusing than it needs to be. Just wait until you see him again, see how you feel, then make your decision. But if you do want more with him, you need to tell him. It's eating you up, hun."

"Plus, he'd be a great lay." Lindsey added with that saucy grin on hers.

They all burst into giggles, Gabby's slightly more awkward than theirs.

"Hold up," Monica held up her hand, leaning away from Gabby, "You said he's never been with anyone before. I assumed that you meant relationships, but did you mean sex?"

"I meant relationships..." Gabby left it hanging as the realization hit her. "Shit."

Lindsey went bug-eyed. "No freakin' way! How can he-that gorgeous-_why?_"

Monica seemed far calmer, her job required her to deal with all kinds of awkward sexual situations with couples. Though she had been teasing about sex earlier, Monica had crossed into a territory that needed her professionalism and advice. "I thought the UNSC didn't have strict regulations about trysts, so long as they don't act insubordinate?"

"John's rank would have been an issue with most people, he was on the front lines a lot and he...had trouble making connections with people."

"He wasn't interested or there wasn't the opportunity?"

Gabby considered this, slowly setting her glass down on the coffee table. "Both, I suppose. But the opportunity would have been the lack of personal relationships, not the lack of offers."

While Monica seemed to turn this over in her mind, Lindsey smothered a giggle behind her hand. "You know him that well?"

Not seeing the knowing smile on her face, Gabby nodded. "We talked a lot when I was sick, well, he talked, I listened." She said absently, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "He took care of me, stayed up the entire night when I first came down with it."

Lindsey started squealing and flailing her hands about. "You guys are so bloody cute and you aren't even a couple yet!" She made another high pitched noise as Gabby wonderingly thought over Lindsey's assumption that they were going to become a couple.

"Yet?"

Monica laughed lightly, ruffling Gabby's hair patronisingly. "Yes, _yet_. If he stayed up all night just to take care of you, while you were sick, he's definitely got some feelings for you. Troy left water for me _outside_ the bathroom and hid in his man-cave when I had morning sickness. _You_ were properly crook too, hun. A man that can take care of you while you're a phlegmy, coughy, feverish and unshowered mess is a man that has very strong feelings for you. Friend or boyfriend, that's dedication."

"And even if," Lindsey interjected, "he doesn't return the feelings, I doubt he would be willing to let you go as a friend. It might be awkward for a while, but he'll still be in your life."

Gabby sighed unhappily, "You really think so?"

"Yep, and stop over thinking things." Lindsey tutted, "Live in the moment, babe. You'll have more fun."

"Oh, and you will definitely need to do yoga, hun." Monica mentioned, patting Gabby's shoulder. "I'll show you some moves that will help. It's been a while for you, and he's a big fella."

Lindsey waggled her eyebrows ad Gabby shoved her burning face into her hands, even though she knew to take Monica's suggestions seriously.

Fingers drummed on the top of her head, and Gabby peered up at Monica hesitantly.

"Do you still do pilates or have you stopped?"

Dropping her hands, Gabby answered, "Twice a week, sometimes."

"No normal yoga?"

Gabby shook her head in the negative.

"Yeah, you should definitely start up again or you're gonna have to get out that gag gift we got you at Sexpo last year."

Lindsey burst in to laughter and fell off the couch.

Gabby took another drink.

o**OO**o

The next day, feeling a little hungover, Gabby was making her way home when she spotted a truck with its hood popped up on the side of the road. Even though her head was telling, begging, her just to go home and stuff her face full of bacon after a glorious shower, Gabby rolled to a stop alongside the truck.

It was a heavy duty ute, but it looked a bit old.

"Do you need any help, mate?"

A familiar freckled face popped up from behind the hood.

Gabby blinked in surprise as Ryan, wiping oil from his hands, grinned a little self-deprecatingly. She cut off the engine, but only after searching for the two dicks he called friends. Quint and Kyle were nowhere to be seen, and the truck only had a two-seat cab, like her own.

"I'm good with engines, Gabby," Ryan said, "I just don't think that this truck can be fixed anymore."

"Too old to be kept going, then?" she ventured, "what are you doing out here anyway?"

He set the greasy rag down, smiling in a way she had never seen as he fetched something from inside his truck. He reappeared with a small puppy and-oh.

Gabby recognised the sandy colour of dingo fur straight away, but it looked like there might have been some collie or kelpie blood in its veins too.

"You adopted one of the pups?"

Ryan cradled the wriggling pup to his chest, gently rubbing the top of its head with the cleanest finger. "Yeah. I named her Copper." He brought the pup closer, and Gabby leaned over, chuckling when the pup wriggled and licked at the finger she offered for her to sniff. "She has to be bottle fed for another few weeks, but Dr. Cooper said I could take her home. I wanted to show you, and I-uh," he trailed off awkwardly.

"Yes?" Gabby said, withdrawing her hand.

"Quint and Kyle, they were arrested two days ago." He blurted, shuffling on the spot when her eyebrows went up. "For breaking and entering, and arson."

"Arson...what-were they the people that burned down Rick's carpentry shed?"

"I-yeah." He sighed, looking quite ashamed. "I promise that I had nothing to do with it, I hadn't even seen them since that night at Red Belly Blacks. I didn't even think that they could have had anything to do with the fire until the police called me down for an alibi and interview."

Gabby sat back, blowing out a long breathe.

"Well," she started, unsure what to say. "Well."

Ryan huffed a weak laugh. "I thought I'd let you know."

"Right. Thanks, I guess."

Gabby watched him grin absently, as if he wasn't quite sure with what to do with himself asides take care of that little puppy. Her head still felt thick and foggy, and her mouth had that horrible dryness to it after too much sugar and alcohol, but Cassie still felt sad for the guy. He'd lost two of his friends, though she wouldn't call them that, had had a new life to take care of.

"Do you want to wait at my place until the tow service gets here? I have to go back into town in a hour anyway, I can give you a lift in?"

He seemed surprised and relieved by the offer, and grabbed his gear and possessions from the ute, tossing them in the back, save the padded box. The puppy went into the box, and he held it in his lap securely.

Gunning the engine, Gabby couldn't help but think the little ball of fluff was adorable. "You picked a good name for her. Matches her eyes."

Ryan cooed, almost making her snicker in amusement, and tickled the wriggling pups belly.

They had made it to her driveway when a loud _bang _echoed, and she nearly lost control of the truck.

"What the fu-" she slammed on the breaks, swerving into the spin the truck was sent into like her mother had taught her. The truck shuddered to a halt, sagging forward on an angle that it most certainly should _not be. _"What the hell happened?"

Ryan looked just as confused, and he checked on Copper before slipping from the truck. "Stay here," he warned, in a strangely authoritative voice. "I saw something on the road."

Gabby clutched the wheel in a white-knuckled grip, hushing Copper as she whined. Ignoring Ryan's order, Gabby cut off the engine and exited the cab.

Further down the driveway, Gabby saw Ryan bending down, brushing gravel and dirt away from something metallic, but painted to disguise the telling shine.

Road spikes.

Ryan looked up at her approach, appearing distressed, when a loud _crack_ stopped him.

Gabby froze, watching with horror as red spilled down Ryan's chest. He coughed, staring at the blood with bewilderment before falling to his knees.

Face white and body trembling, Gabby lurched forward, only for hands to come down on her arms with unforgiving harshness.

Ryan fell to his side, red dribbling down his chin and splattering the earth. "G-Gab..." he tried to call, reaching weakly for her as she screamed and hollered and demanded to be let go.

The hands moved to that two thick arms banded over her torso instead, squeezing so tightly that breathing became difficult.

"Let me go! Ryan!" Gabby cried, lashing out with her legs viciously. "_Ryan!" _

The man attacking her grunted as she slammed her head backwards into his nose, breaking it by the sound and rush of fluid that sprayed the back of her head and neck.

Ryan tried to stand, but fell down, crying out as the gunshot wound to his chest or shoulder, she wasn't sure, pulled horrifically. In the background somewhere, Boomer was going ballistic. His barks were faint from this far up the driveway, and Gabby cried as she fought harder.

Kirks and her mothers training was no use, not against this person who was so strong and holding her so, but Gabby still fought with everything she had. She screamed for help, but the cry was cut short as a sharp prick stabbed as her neck.

If must have been a needle, as a hot rush of something entered her bloodstream, a blooming warmth that immediately had her wilting. Movement sluggish, Gabby keened feebly, pulling away from the hurt uselessly.

The last thing she saw was Ryan passing out – please don't let him be dead- as she was slung over their attackers shoulder.

o**OO**o

Gabby groaned, forcing her eyes open and regretting it immediately. White lights, too bright for her eyes right now, burned at her pupils, and she slammed them shut, trying to shift to the side and bury her face in a pillow.

It wasn't her pillow. It was hard, and much thinner.

This wasn't her bed.

It all came back in a rush, one terrifying reel of memoires. Gabby jerked up, feeling her heart skitter to an impossibly fast rhythm as the unfamiliar room came into focus. It was stark, almost like a prison cell with how bare it was.

Gabby stumbled from the bed, gunning for the door and searching for some kind of handle.

"_You will not find what you are looking for," _are human voice, fizzing slightly from the intercom, spoke, "_this room was designed to transport political and high-risk prisoners. There is no way to open that door from the inside."_

"Who the hell are you?" Gabby barked with real anger, but false bravery, "What happened to Ryan? Answer me!"

"_The first is none of your concern, I am only the middle-man, and as for the second, I do not know. Nor do I care."_

Gabby was struck at how heartless this person was, and she clenched her hands in frustration as being so helpless.

_Oh god, what if Ryan's dead..._

Swallowing back tears and bile, Gabby demanded further information. "Why are you doing this?"

"_Personally, because I am being paid to."_

Gabby rarely felt anything to black as hatred, but she scowled up at the speaker in the corner of the room, set well out of her reach. "So you're a mercenary then. Who do you work for?"

"_You'll find out soon enough." _The man on the other end sighed, as if he was greatly put-upon by this trivial conversation. _"The trip will take a while, might as well get comfortable. Food will be brought soon. Try not to become a hysterical mess again, will you? The tears were quite unattractive."_

"Fuck you!" she shouted, taking a threatening step towards the speaker. "I hope your nose hurts, asshole!"

Gabby stalked around the room, searching everything until there was nothing left to be seen or found. There was a bed, a sink, a toilet and a small table. All were bolted down to the floor, and Gabby desperately tried not to start crying. Not because it was unattractive, but because she was _afraid._

She pulled her knees to her chest, hugged them, and buried her face into them. Tears did not fall, no matter how she ached to let them, and Gabby desperately tried not to think about Ryan's white-washed face, flecked with vivid redness as she reached for her with weak movements.

Gabby clutched at the rough denim of her jeans as her toes wiggled freely. The bastard had taken her shoes. Her belt and watch were gone too, she realised, as were the plain studs she wore in her ears.

He'd even taken her hair band. The blond strands fell about her shoulders in a tangled mess, and as she ran her fingers through it, she sneered with disgust at the feeling of dried blood clumping sections together. With a grimace, she left the bed and went to the sink.

The common, mindless actions helped ground her, gave her a little leverage against the flighty panic swirling around in her gut like a tornado.

Food came in from a little slot at the bottom of the door, slid in without so much as a warning. She had no idea how much time passed, but she was given two meals, which led her to think that perhaps she had been about for almost a day.

The fear was still present, as was the hatred for her captor, but it dwindled as exhaustion dragged her eyelids down. Knowing that fighting it was useless, especially since she needed to keep her energy up, Gabby curled up on the bed.

In the silence, in the quiet of this prison, Gabby's only company was her thoughts. She thought of her friends that she had left only that morning, of Ryan, either dead or dying in her driveway, of Boomer barking in the background. A sob caught in her throat.

What she would give for his warm, fuzzy body beside her right now, keeping her warm in this abysmal place.

But as much as she wanted Boomer curled up beside her, Gabby wanted a pair of arms holding her too. One specific pair of arms. Ones that were thick with ropes of corded muscles, and lashed with scars.

Arms that were gentle, so _so_ gentle, and made her feel safe and happy and protected.

Gabby tugged the blanket up over her face, hiding herself from the starkness if the lights, with only thoughts and memories of the ones she loved to keep her warm.

o**OO**o

"Rise and shine!"

Gabby fell from the bed, tangled in the blankets, and landed hard on her butt. Red flamed across her face, out of humiliation and anger.

From outside the door laughter drifted in. The slot at the bottom opened and a water bottle rolled inside, along with a tray with an unappetizing pile of, what she guessed, was porridge.

By the time she was finished he was back.

He banged on the door, the signal for Gabby to push the tray and bottle back through the slot.

"We'll be departing shortly, and when I come for you, you had better behave." The sickeningly light hearted tone was dripping with malice. "I was told not to hurt you too much, but so long as your alive and conscious I don't really think he'll mind."

Though she trembled, Gabby dared to say: "Who won't mind?"

He chuckled, and said nothing.

The next hour passed uneventfully, save for the tremor that rippled through, what she definitely knew to be a ship now. A faint memory of coming to earth years ago flickered. The ship had shuddered in just the same way, if not more, when they had descended through the atmosphere.

Shit, she wasn't even on _Earth _anymore.

Forcing the hysteria back, Gabby rode out the minor shockwaves and waited.

Eventually, he did come for her.

The first thing he did was put a bag over her head.

He walked, keeping a firm grip on her arm since Gabby kept stumbling, until Gabby's feet were cut up and bleeding despite the calluses she'd built up over years of walking around barefoot outside.

Bastard haven't given her shoes back.

Gabby tried to discern as much as possible from sound, touch and scent alone.

There were animals chattering away, birds she thought considering the sweetness of their songs, and it was warm and moist, like a perfect summer day at the lakeside. The wind carried familiar and unfamiliar scents. She smelt fresh water, a lot of it, and felt many plants besides grass brush across her exposed skin.

Then they were walking through tall grass, and Gabby bit back pained noises when a particularly sharp rock jabbed at her heel.

A voice reached her ears, smooth and sibilant, and it reminded her of oil with its silkiness.

"...and...here we are now," the voice said, and Gabby turned her blind eyes to it instinctively. "You're late."

Her captor sighed. "There were complications."

"The state of your nose attests to that."

Gabby allowed herself to feel a little bit of pride.

"What is the meaning of this, Reynolds?" A gruff, aged voice spoke, tight with fury.

Gabby knew that voice, it had been all over the news in broadcasts during the war. Oh, _oh shit. _If that was Admiral Hood, then that meant-

The bag was ripped away.

At first, Gabby was blinded, but as she blinked the spots away and her vision cleared enough to see her heart just _stopped. _

"Gabriele!"

Behind a shimmering force-field stood Admiral Hood and several other humans she vaguely recognized from television, all staring at her with open confusion and apprehension. Hulking figures were at their backs, but Gabby's eyes were drawn to the towering form of Thel. He stared at her with something akin to dismay and shock before looking at something to her left.

She followed his line of sight, and almost cried with relief. An achingly familiar figure stood _outside _the barrier, still as a statue, and a smile started to form on her face, but then she saw the panic on the faces of the humans.

John stood with the energy sword gifted to him by the elites in one hand. He didn't move, not even a twitch, and her heart sank. Something was _wrong. _

Gabby pulled at her arm, only for her captor, and yes, she had done a damn good job smashing his nose, to turn and hold a gun to her head.

"Put that down, idiot," the man in an expensive looking suit said, exasperated, "you aren't going to be the one to kill her."

Gabby tried to make sense of this, of the group trapped inside a funny rock, hut thing to the fact that John was just _standing there_.

"Reynolds," Hood barked harshly, looking like he wanted nothing more than to rip the man in half, "why the hell are you bringing innocent civilians into this?"

The man in the suit, Reynolds, rolled his eyes, rubbing a thumb back and forth over his clean shaven jaw. "Obviously someone needs to take the fall, and this opportunity presented itself in a wonderful fashion."

"What are you planning, human?" Thel intoned in a dangerous voice, casting orange eyes her way once before returning them to glare poisonously at the man.

The look he shot Thel was just as acidic, and Gabby thought she saw a gleam of madness in his sharp eyes.

"The death of every alien in this universe. It belongs to us, _humans_, and we will take back what you've stolen, even if it is nothing but blackened coals, humanity will take back what we are owed, and then we shall burn every last one of _you_ until your planets are glass!" Reynolds snarled at the elite, a terrible fire igniting in his green eyes. "Your people will burn. Your woman and children will receive the same amount of mercy you showed us. NONE!"

It felt like she couldn't breathe in the presence of this genocide driven maniac.

Pushing the few hairs back that had fallen free, Reynolds visibly reigned in his emotions, caging the wrathful demon she could see lurking just under his skin.

"Now," he began in a much calmer tone, "Spartan-117. I must apologize for this, as you did a great deal for humanity, but now you call that filthy Arbiter friend, I see no reason why I should spare you any further pain. And you," he turned, meeting her eyes for the first time.

Gabby trembled, but she stiffened her spine stubbornly, and refused to look away.

"You call the split-jaw friend too, don't you?"

Gabby saw Thel draw back, glancing between the two of them.

It wasn't going to make a difference, no matter what her answer was, she realised. It was too late, she was here, for what bloody reasons she still wasn't sure, and this man had plans. Ones that Gabby was unlikely to escape from without a great deal of help.

Something her mother had told her many years ago suddenly burst forth from a memory, buried deep and far in her mind.

"_Show them anger, show them laughter, show them that no matter how hard they try, they cannot break you. And if you can, show them that they can't win, and that you are going to make them fucking pay. Ring them out until they fold, and don't ever forget to make eye contact. Let them see that you are fearless."_

That was in reference to playing poker, but right now, that was all she needed to hear.

Gabby lifted her chin and threw her shoulders back.

"Yes. Thel is my friend." Gabby glowered as fearsomely as she could, and Reynolds face pinched with distaste. "And when he gets out of there, he is going to kick your sorry ass."

Her captor chuckled despite the anger that flashed over Reynolds face. "I told you that she was feisty."

"So you did," he muttered. "Thank you for your service, Mitchell, the rest of your payment is being transferred as we speak."

Mitchell's grip tightened before slackening, then he let go entirely. Gabby refused to rub where his hands had been to get blood flowing.

"It's been a pleasure, boss." He saluted mockingly, and then spun on his heel and went back the way they had come. "I'll see you back at the ship."

"The pleasure was mine," Reynolds murmured, looking solely at Gabby. "Now, while you have made the mistake of calling a split-jaw friend, I will lend you the comfort of knowing that your death will help bring humanities dominance and absolute rule in the universe."

"Hasn't there been enough death already?" she said, surprising herself. But...she chanced a glance and the frozen figure of John, and deep down, she knew that something was _wrong. _Words were all she had at the moment, and goddamn it, she would use them to the best of her ability if it meant protecting someone that she...that...

That she loved.

_Christ_, Gabby thought, fighting to keep the expression from her face, _of all times to realise she loved someone. _

"There is always too much death, Miss. Edwards," Reynolds conceded, tipping his head faintly, "but the greatest thrones are built upon the graves of millions. Our own history teaches us this."

Grasping at straws, Gabby took the olive branch that he had, perhaps unwittingly, given. "And what about the World Wars? Look at what we did to ourselves! Millions dead; and how many of those were innocents? Look at Dresden, or Hiroshima, or Pearl Harbor. What about Gallipoli and the Civil War? The battles of Gettysburg and Stalingrad?" She took a steadying breathe, trying to collect herself. "Humans have hurt ourselves too much already, and we've lost so much in this war, we _can't _start another, because it would mean the _end _of us."

Gabby implored this man with every fibre of her being to just understand _peace_.

"Another war would not mean a new beginning for humanity, it would mean our extinction. We need the Alliance, the elites, and peace to _survive._"

Reynolds remained silent. A calm breeze tugged at their clothing and Gabby's hair, and nothing else seemed to happen. Save for the enraptured eyes of their audience, which rotated between the three outside the barrier.

Gabby held her breathe when Reynolds began to speak.

"You make an impassioned argument, and it was a commendable effort for someone of your station, but it is too late already. For what it is worth to you, Miss Edwards," he said with such real sympathy that it only added another dimension to his maniac behaviour, "your death will be quick."

There was no reasoning with him, Gabby realised with a heavy heart.

"Dammit, Reynolds," exploded a women with an impeccable taste in style. "Stop this insanity!"

Others started calling out, and orange, serpentine eyes met hers even as he smashed an armoured hand against the barrier, sending a ripple of sparks across the surface. Gabby smiled brokenly, as if saying 'I tried'. She wasn't going to run. If she was going to die, that she would do it with some damn dignity.

Reynolds ignored everyone. He spoke into a device, and Gabby watched in horror as John, _no, John's suit, _followed his orders.

Gabby turned to face him, seeing her wrecked looking self in the gold of his visor. She tried, oh god, she tried to keep the tears from forming, but they welled up and spilled over anyway.

Gabby didn't know what to wish for John. If he lived, he would be a broken man all over again, and he would be fighting in a new war that they had no hope of winning, no matter what delusions Reynolds had.

But if he died...then he would be dead. _Gone._

"Activate the energy sword," Reynolds said over the increasingly loud protests. "And cut of her head."

Gabby twitched as the purple lance flashed to life. At least she would be killed by something beautiful.

The words sat on the tip of her tongue, and she could see the faint tremors now, of John fighting for control over the powerful MILONR suit from the inside.

I love you.

She wanted to say it, to let him know that her feelings had become something wonderful and beautiful, but she couldn't, not if he was going to be forced to watch her death, to be a puppet.

"It's okay," Gabby said wetly, smiling as if she was seeing a sunrise for the first time in the gold her eyes remained glued too. She had failed to save him, but Gabby could at least give him this. "It's alright, John."

_I love you. _

o**O**oo**O**o

_Feedback on this chapter will be greatly, tremendously, appreciated._


	33. Chapter 32

_I probably should have mentioned this, but I am quite sick (hence the sudden free time to write fanfiction! Lol) so I am making more spelling errors than usual. I'll fix it all up in the re-write later._

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbour is a Spartan**_

**Chapter 32**

"It's okay," Gabby said as tears streamed down her face, the trails shining like comet tails from the reflection of his visor. And she smiled, this beautiful, almost peaceful thing. John's heart was breaking. "It's alright, John."

"No, no no no," he panicked, having never felt such a rush of _whatever _this overwhelming emotion was. It was terrifying and glorious at the same time, but he could not revel in it yet, he was too _afraid_. "Cortana, hurry, _please_."

Finally, blessedly, her voice blared in his damaged ears. The static receded.

"_I'm working as fast as I can John," _the AI replied, sounding strained and wrought as data scrolled on the upper left corner of his HUD, _"Keep fighting, Spartan, I will get us through."_

And John _fought. _

With every muscle at his disposal John strained and pulled and heaved against the MIJOLNR armour. He could feel the subtle power of the energy sword hum against his palm, and the purple lance reflected in those hazel eyes.

"CORTANA!"

"_Almost...there..."_

The thing that had grown inside of his chest over these past weeks was being ripped apart, and it hurt him in ways he had barely touched before. A roaring, bellowing monster rose inside of John, and he roared as he pulled against the armour around his arm.

Agony clawed at his heart as the lance drew closer even as his arm quivered.

Gabby was still smiling. Hazel eyes, lit with the purple light, looked at him with...

With something that he dearly wanted to name, because what he saw in those hazel depths seemed to mimic the warm bursts of sunlight in his own heart.

John could not let it die.

John _would not _let it die.

"Dammit, Cortana," John panted, snarling as he poured last reserve into pulling his arm back as it drew ever closer. Muscles shrieked in protest, twisting and straining in ways they were never meant to. There was a wet pop, followed by another but he never gave up.

"_NOW SPARTAN, THROW IT AT THE BARRIER!"_

Suddenly, John could _move_.

With a shout, he spun away, far away, from Gabby and flung the energy sword at the generator.

"_I-I can't stay in control and kill this thing; get away, get away NOW!"_

John didn't look back, he couldn't risk hesitating.

John bolted, tearing at his armour and letting it fall where it did.

o**OO**o

Gabby watched John go, chest shuddering with fear and relief as a shaky gasp was drawn in on instinct alone. She dearly wanted to chase after John, but there was no chance of her being able to catch him.

Her knees were so weak that she nearly collapsed, but it wasn't finished yet.

"No," Reynolds hissed, looking lost and furious at the same time, "it's not possible. My virus had assumed absolute control! It was derived from the Gravemind and Forerunner technology. It. Is. Superior."

Gabby raised a quivering hand and held the closed fist to her heart. She had just stared her death down, and-

"Gabrielle," Thel spoke loudly, "deactivate the barrier. Quickly!"

The barrier hadn't dissipated; the sword had missed the generator, instead hitting the force-shield with an explosion of sparks. It fell and deactivated once it touched the ground, a failsafe.

Right. The order spurned her forward, propelling shaky muscles into action. She gunned for John's sword-

"You-" Reynolds spat, narrowing his sight upon her and stalking over, fingers making claws that he made to circle around her neck, "what did you do yo_mpfh!_"

Reynolds reeled back, clutching both hands to his face as blood poured from his nose. Gabby barely felt the pain in her hand from the punch as she scooped up the weapon. Her face was twisted in a fearsome, almost savage snarl as the bastard spluttered.

_She stood, feet apart and shoulders set, frowning in concentration at the elegant silver handle in her sun-kissed hands._

"_Adjust your grip like this."_

_Thick, scarred fingers guided hers until she held it properly._

"_Good, now all you have to do-"_

"_Is make sure to keep the pointy, burning part pointed away from myself. Got it."_

_Warm hair gusted over her ear as John chuckled. "Did you treat all of your teachers this way, or is it just me?"_

Gabby held the sword, and flicked her wrist, just like John had taught her too, and then she drove it into the generator. She flinched and stepped back from the sparks spraying everywhere, but kept driving the sword deeper until the barrier began to flicker.

"Watch out!"

Reynolds came back, snarling with blood coated teeth, and ripped her away from the barrier. The sword fell from her grip, and he hauled her away from the device. Gabby, already unsteady, fell easily into his grasp.

Desperate and furious cries came from the others, and Gabby tried to twist away as Reynolds brought one arm up and banded it around her neck in a choke hold and then _squeezed. _

Gasping, Gabby clawed at his arm frantically, trying just to get some air.

"Gabriele!"

The barrier still flickered, but not enough for anyone to get through.

With her last reserve, Gabby kicked out. Her foot met the silver hilt, and drove it deeper into the generator. There was an explosion, lights danced before her eyes like fireworks, and the force of her kick and the shockwave, small as it was, sent both she and Reynolds falling back. The back of her skull cracked against his jaw.

White noise keened in her ears as she drew air into her starved lungs. His arm fell away and she feebly rolled to the side, desperately trying to put distance between herself and this foul, disgusting man.

There was a muffled noise, as if spoken through thick glass. It might have been her name. A silver blob with two orange spots appeared as she was rolled onto her back and picked up.

Gabby moved her mouth, trying to say something as she blinked back the darkness that was consuming her vision with an alarming speed.

"...abriel...Gabriel!"

Gabby went limp as her mind shut down.

o**OO**o

Hood ripped away the infernal device from Reynolds personally, barking orders for Shepherd and Romada to keep him immobile. Shepherd had already pulled his silk tie off and used it to bind his hands, and Reynolds was spitting and hissing like an angry cat at the treatment. Rambling on about the glory of humanity being destroyed.

With one last disgusted glare, Hood deactivated the device and waited for the emp field to wear off.

Gartallicus approached as the two chieftains galloped off, yowling war cries.

"I have sent them to retrieve the mercenary. Alive, if possible."

Hood's lips pressed into a thin line. "Thank you."

Gartallicus nodded, braids and beads swaying with the movement. "Our laws would demand the males blood, but I shall not demand the rights. He did not slay any of my kin, or those a part of the New Covenant."

At the subtle reminder that Reynolds had killed one of their own, a very influential man at that, Hood stiffened his spine and frowned at the pale fur of his back as he returned to the other members of his party.

Noise fizzled in his ear, Serina's cool voice smoothing out a second later.

"_Finally, we've been in the dark up here for nearly fifteen minutes. What's going on down there, Admiral?" _

Hood turned away, watching Arabella tend to the civilian, Gabriel as Arbiter had called her. The elite was still crouched by the unconscious woman's side, lifting her up so that the representative could inspect the back of her head with gentle hands.

Hood had a feeling that this was the woman Cortana had approached him about days ago. The one that she thought John might-

No. Hood frowned again, staring in the direction the Spartan had bolted. 'Might' was not the correct word here.

A weary sigh left him, but it did not show in his face.

"_Sir?"_

"Send the pelicans down to pick us up. I want the rest of the Spartans down here with two medical teams."

"_Yes, sir, ETA two minutes and thirty-three seconds. Are the fire-teams necessary?"_

"No, Serina," Hood replied, "they aren't. Has Cortana been in contact?"

"_We received a brief databurst of information. I'm still decoding it, it is amazingly complex, but it seems to be a counter to a digital virus. And a breakdown of the virus itself. I'm seeing codes akin to Forerunner AI's and organic viruses."_

"Keep working on it. That virus had infected Serria-117's MIJOLNIR armour and taken control of the motor functions. Cortana might have been able to counter it, but only for a short time."

"_Judging by the complexity of what I am reading, it's astounding she managed that much without assistance from another Smart AI."_

"Just keep me in the loop. Patch me into Red Team."

Serina did so immediately.

_I'm too old for this shit, _Hood thought as the hard voice of Jerome broke through.

o**OO**o

"How is she?"

Arabella did not look away from inspecting Gabriel's eyes with a small penlight. "There is the possibility of a minor concussion, but her pupils are responding fine. I'll take scans to be sure, but her throat and trachea don't seem damaged, she's breathing fine."

"Her feet," Thel rumbled unhappily, "they were bleeding."

Arabella knelt down and examined each bare appendage. "Some minor scrapes and embedded debris. I don't have the proper equipment to handle this, but they should heal up quickly. You called her Gabriel?"

"That I did," he admitted, only laying Gabriel back down once Arabella removed her coat and folded it into a pillow.

"You know her then? A civilian."

Thel took none too kindly to the questions, but answered regardless. He would not have anyone look upon her with suspicious or unkindness, not after her actions.

Not after she had called him friend.

"She is a recent acquaintance that I met through the Spartan. She is a...a friend."

"Is that why Reynolds brought her here?" Arabella pursed her lips, highlighting the lines around her mouth and eyes made by stress and fatigue.

"We shall soon find out what the hell he was planning."

They both looked up. Hood had joined them, silently observing Arabella diagnose Gabby's injuries.

"What is to be done about the Spartan?" Thel cast a look after John, who was nowhere in sight. "Were you able to deactivate the control device?"

Hood had a look of repressed fury about him, tightening his jaw and making his steely eyes all the more intimidating. This was a man who was damn pissed. "I have, but lord only knows what fail-safes were in place. Chief might be staying away until he has removed the suit entirely just to be on the safe side, even if he has full control. The others-ah, here they are."

The roar of multiple pelicans became clearer. They landed a short distance away from the group, three green blurs leaping down and taking off after John before their pelican had even landed properly.

Thel clicked his mandibles, staring after Red Team. He should have liked to retrieve his friend, but knew not the mechanics of the infamous armour, and would likely me more of a hindrance that a help.

Thel's honour demanded aiding a brother in arms, but it also bound him in assisting those that had fought for him.

The medics looked to be struggling to pull the gurney through the tall grass, so Thel lifted Gabriel and brought her to them. He made sure to keep her head still, and not allow the weeping gash on her skull to touch anything.

The medics blinked at the sight of the pair, but transferred Gabby over with minimal fuss. Arabella sounded off her findings, hopping inside but staying clear.

Thel spied the two human captains dragging Reynolds into the second pelican. The man was livid, spitting insults and demands as if he had the right.

A low growl, too low for human ears, left him. That human deserved to die, and not by one of the magnificent energy swords, but by a messy shot through the head that would remove his face. He deserved to not be remembered, such betrayal and disgrace deserved nothing less.

"Gabriel," Arabella called as Gabby moaned, "Gabriel, open your eyes for me, yes, that's it. Can you tell me your full name?"

Moving to hover by the gurney, but out of the way of the medics, Thel stood by as Gabby roused further, weakly trying to bat away the penlight Arabella was shining into her eyes again.

"Ugh," she grunted, looking disoriented and cranky, "Gabriele Ann Edwards. What-what's goin' on?"

Concerned, Thel craned closer, making Gabby go crossed eyed as he leaned over her head.

"Do you not remember?"

Gabby blinked slowly, eyes not as focused as they should have been. Arabella tried to push Thel back, but he remained obstinate and she relented with a huff before moving around him to continue working.

"Remember what, Thel? I, ow, my head..." Gabby reach back to touch her head, only to freeze. "John! Where's John?"

They both gently pushed her down when Gabby jack-knifed up, eyes frantically searching for the Spartan. It was easy to push her down, frighteningly easy, Thel thought as what little colour there was to Gabby's face fell away and she slumped back down.

"Miss Edwards, you might have a concussion and I need you to stay still," the firmness to Arabella's tone seemed to stop the weak struggles, and Gabby lay still, breath laboured as she pressed a hand to her temple.

"The other Spartans have gone to him," Thel assured, "rest easy, they will not let any harm befall their brother."

Gabby blinked hazily, squinting as if she couldn't see properly. "What the hell happened? Why was John-what did that asshole do to him?" she choked out tightly, a deep well of anger bringing a spark to her eyes.

Thel harrumphed, deeply disturbed by Reynolds actions himself. "I believe that the filth somehow managed to place a virus in the armours systems. Through that he was able to control the motor controls, using John as little more than a puppet."

"Oh, _Christ_-" Gabby hissed, struggling to get up again but this time with jerky movement that spoke of her rage. Thel had never seen Gabriele express such a violent emotion, but now as she fought against the firm hands of the medics, he considered that even the happiest and gentlest and kindest of human could wield wrath like a bolt of lightening. "Where is that fucker! I'm gonna rip that blighter a new one and turn his balls into earrings!"

It seemed that Arabella could only watch in stunned silence as Gabby blustered on and pulled away from the restraining hands. The pen in her hand fell from limp fingers, clacking onto the floor.

Thel was hard pressed not to start laughing as Rtas strode aboard and was nearly bowled into by the unsteady human fireball.

"Out of my way!" Gabby almost shouted, flapping a hand at a medic who scurried after her. The other wasn't sure if getting closer would get his fingers bitten off. "Where is he? That bastard is in for a world or hurt!"

Rtas stopped, staring down at the seething human with bafflement. No one dared to speak to a Fleetmaster in such a manner.

Finally deigning to put a stop to this, as amusing as it was, Thel covered the distance between them in two long strides. Gabby growled like that dog of hers when he picked her up and plopped her back on the gurney.

"I saved your scaly ass, you should be helping me." She grouched, looking mightily unhappy.

"You are injured," Thel said seriously. "And Reynolds will be punished severely for his traitorous actions."

The medics edged closer as Thel stood back.

"As much as we would all like to see his testicles turned into jewellery," Arabella said, trying desperately not to smile now that the shock had worn off, "he will be tried for murder and crimes against humanity, likely conspiring and kidnapping too."

Gabby forced out a slow gust of air, hands fisting into the sheets.

Rtas approached, eyeing the blond curiously. "Is this why humans assign genders to their ships?"

"I heard that," Gabby muttered, rubbing at a small bruise on her neck.

Thel sighed. "Yes. Yes it is."

Rtas observed her curiously before speaking. "The brutes caught the mercenary, he is being guarded by the human captains." Rtas added after a considering moment. "They discovered his ship as well. The admiral has called for another team to appropriate it."

"Any news of the Spartans?" Thel was well aware that Gabby was unashamedly eavesdropping.

"They have found discarded pieces of armour, but not yet the Master Chief. The admiral has asked that the civilians be returned to the ship. A third transport in on route to bring the rest aboard once the Spartans have returned."

Gabby sighed despondently at this news, eyes dropping to her dirty feet.

o**OO**o

Thel remained with Gabby until they reached the _United Front_, and his presence was the only familiar thing Gabby encountered. Arabella nattered on about the state of her feet and head, but Gabby wasn't really listening.

Absently she dug the palm of her hand into her chest, vacantly staring at the opposite wall. The medical bay was occupied by only the staff and one other man, who was pestering a nurse for a deck of cards or a tablet to play games on.

"Are you having chest pains?"

Gabby tore her eyes away, glad that her vision was no longer blurry after Arabella had used some fancy laser device on them. She let the hand drop into her lap.

"Not the physical kind." She mumbled.

The blinding, red-tinged rage that had fuelled her tirade earlier had fizzled out, leaving only a sad and despondent feeling that left her heart aching for John. Even just a glimpse of his face would ease the worry.

Arabella gave her a kind smile, a knowing twitch to the lips. "Ah, so that is what he is to you."

Frowning, Gabby raked agitated fingers through her hair that were still wet from the quick shower she'd begged the nurses to let her have. Gabby guiltily thought that perhaps the only reason they had let her was because they had witnessed her enraged bitch-fit earlier.

"What are you getting at?"

Gabby did not feel inferior to this women, in fact she admired her taste in style, but when Arabella's face shifted into a smirk she felt like a child.

"That you love him."

The groan she gave only amused the other further.

"Others would have run," Arabella stated out of the blue, startling Gabby from the silence that had surrounded them, save the bickering of the marine and nurse across the room. "Others would not have been able to smile at the person about to kill them, willingly or not."

Face falling, Gabby drew her knees up and rested her arms loosely upon them. "I'd only just realised what I felt a minute before. I couldn't-" she broke off, unable to talk so thick the emotion was in her voice. "I couldn't stop what that bastard was doing to John. Running would have been useless, and only hurt him more."

"So he doesn't know..."

"No," Gabby shook her head, swallowing. "I tried to tell him then, but...it would have hurt him so much more to know how I felt only seconds before I died, and that he couldn't stop it from happening."

Arabella carefully set the data-pad she was working on down, trailing a manicured nail across the edge. "I feel as if I should apologise for all of this."

Gabby snorted. "Why the hell would you think that?"

The other clasped her delicate hands together, knuckles white. "Among everyone here today, I was the one to spend the most time with Nicholi. I should have noticed that he was up to something."

"Blaming yourself is stupid."

A sardonic expression twisted her beautiful face. The blood had been cleaned form her ears and neck. "Stupid, yes, but unfounded? Not entirely, I think." She huffed. "It's almost time for lunch. I will have food brought, and after that you should try and rest."

Arabella took two steps before halting, wavering on the spot. "For what it's worth, I do not think you are alone in your feelings."

Then she left Gabby behind, heels clicking on the metal floors.

o**OO**o

"Who is that?"

William looked up from his cards with confusion, following Adrian's gaze across the room.

"You've been in here an hour already, shouldn't you know?" he replied dryly, but William couldn't hide his own curiosity entirely. "You're the gossip of the squad."

Adrian swatted at him absently, squinting at the blank, almost sad, expression on her face. She wasn't familiar.

"I think...is she the civie that Reynolds had abducted?" William ventured, muttering further about the blonde hair that was at least two inches over the maximum regulation length. No way would she have gotten away with that if she were a marine or part of the crew.

"Dude," Adrian said in a conspiring tone, "the Arbiter saw the medic team in personally. I would definitely say that she was the civie."

Scuttlebutt had the entire crew knowledgeable of what had happened during the assembly, the base details anyway. They knew that a civilian from earth had been involved, and that Nicholi Reynolds had tried to blow the assembly up using an explosion of some kind but the civie had somehow stopped him.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Locksley?" Adrian poked his arm, forgetting the card game for the time being. "Theories?"

Brilliant strategist, William was, Adrian thought with pride as the gears started churning. Always figuring out puzzles, and their squadmates had been pestering him all day for theories concerning the mornings events.

"Well," William began, thinking his words through carefully, "she could have been in cahoots with Reynolds, but was betrayed at the last second. He might have been orchestrating for her to take the fall. It would have been easy with his connections to make her look suspicious, Rebel contacts or something."

Adrian's face went grim, annoyance trickling into his expression. "Man, do you always have to be so cynical? Just look at her. No way was she working with the bastard."

William looked mildly affronted, but did look over at the woman and-

_Oh shit!_

William jumped in his seat, cards flying everywhere as Adrian froze.

She was staring right at them, a brow cocked.

Fuck, he forgot how easily noise carried in these damn rooms.

"You could have just asked," she said with no inflection, "instead of making up extremes. And you were wrong, by the way. And insulting."

William looked like she had levelled a shotgun between his eyes. He spluttered, and Adrian watched on in horror as some garbled words tried to form into an apology.

The woman watched this with a faint smirk on her tanned face, and Adrian thought that she had the kind of face that should only bear smiles and laughter, because it seemed like she had the kind of grin that lit up the room and made everyone else want to smile because of it.

"What my socially inept friend is trying to say is 'hello'."

She looked away from the still flustered William to meet his eyes. "Are you sure he's not trying to say he's sorry?"

William huffed, slamming his mouth shut and nodding. Adrian slapped him on the back with the arm that wasn't broken. "Pretty sure."

The look William shot him was pure poison. Adrian laughed.

"Sorry," William said, ruffling his black hair roughly, "it just seemed like the most obvious reason."

She blinked, before sighing and shaking her head. "S'alright, mate, if our spots were reversed I'd want to know too. I'm Gabby."

Adrian grinned. "A pleasure. The names Adrian Haze, Private and proud member of Alpha, of Alpha and Omega." He reached out and pinched his friends cheek, earning a furious glare in return. "And this awkward butterfly is William Locksley."

After a nudge from him, William further added: "Close-combat specialist and tactician for Alpha."

She seemed to know them, or know of them, and sat up a little straighter. "So you're in the mixed squads then. I heard that you played a good poker game the other day."

They were both a little surprised of this knowledge, and she reacted to their exchanged looks with a breathy chuckle.

"Care to have a game?" she offered, the challenge brightening her sad eyes.

Cocky smirk blooming, Adrian shuffled out of the bed, tugging the IV along with him. Geeze, all he had was a broken arm and minor concussion and they were keeping him overnight. Still, after having a fully armoured elite fall onto him during a sparring match, it could have been worse.

"So then," Adrian said, plopping onto the bed beside hers as William picked up the cards he'd dropped. Thankfully, he had brought his own deck as well, so they could play standard Texas Hold'em with two decks. "You must have heard that one of us won against _the _Master Chief?"

It looked like she had to fight back a grimace, but the smile only seemed partially forced. "Yeah, and I know that it was one of the elites, not either of you."

"Technicalities," he blustered, "so you know that we versed the Chief, and let me tell you, he was a damn good player."

Gabby smirked then, highly amused and only slightly wicked. "Course I know how good he is," she met his eyes, a taunt there, "I was the one to teach him."

Adrian's jaw fell open.

William dropped the cards again.

o**OO**o

After an a few games with the two marines, who turned out to be alright blokes, Gabby was asked a series of questions by an officer. They had no information about Ryan, and that sat unpleasantly with her, but there was nothing to be done this far out beyond send back an emergency message and pray. She was also told to remain in the medic bay unless she had an escort. Tired from all of this she had then settled down to sleep. It was fitful, and when she woke up later, she hardly felt rested at all.

Adrian was back in his bed, snoring loudly.

But as Gabby looked around, the dulled lights revealed a figure seated by her bed.

"Why didn't you run?" the figure, slumped over like a broken sculpture, said.

Gabby sat up, never taking her eyes from him. Her heart raced in a way it had never done so before.

"John," she breathed, reaching for him.

She wouldn't call what he did a flinch, more like a reluctant shift away from her searching hand.

"Why, Gabby?" he finally raised his head and met her eyes. There was so much torment in them that she felt something in her heart clench painfully. "Why?"

"It wouldn't have done any good," she softly replied. "If I was going to die, I was going to do it my way. All I had out there was my voice, and it didn't do much good. I can't fight the MIJOLNIR armour, or outrun it."

A shudder rippled through him, forcing his eyes closed, as if in pain.

"You told me it was 'okay'. You were smiling." The pain, the _misery _in his voice made her blink back tears. There had been enough crying today.

"That's all I could do," Gabby said, finally reaching between them and taking his hand. "That's the only way I could fight back."

His hand had remained limp until that point, but now it held on fiercely. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" he said with disbelief, "I almost killed you, and you're asking me if _I _am okay?"

"Yes," Gabby said, "you are my-"

_My world. My heart. My soul._

"-best friend. I care about you, a lot. And it wasn't you," she said firmly, willing him to believe her, "it was not _you." _

A disbelieving sound growled in his chest, but John still bent forward, bracing elbows on his thighs and held their twined hands to his brow, eyes slipping shut. Her fingers tingled with the need to run through his hair. It always soothed him, provided a calm that no drug could hope to achieve.

Gabby restrained herself. "Please, John, just tell me that you aren't _hurt_."

His broad back expanded as he exhaled in a gush. "Strained and pulled tendons in my arm, two dislocated fingers."

Gabby bit back a distressed noise, knowing that fussing over the injuries wouldn't make things any better. That did not stop her from scooting closer to the edge of the bed and resting her cheek against the crown of his head. She sighed, giving in to the temptation and letting her free hand smooth down the back of his head and neck.

A tremor, only notable since she was so close, went through him. The hand holding hers flexed, convulsing. Gabby sighed into his hair, keeping up the strokes and digging her thumb gently into the muscle of his neck. This man was so scarred, physically and emotionally, and Gabby wanted to give him everything she could to help and heal.

She wanted to tell him that she loved him.

That she was _in love _with him.

"Tell me what you need," she whispered, "anything that I can do."

John sighed again, "I just need you here."

Gabby smiled a tiny smile. "I'll always be here. With you, I mean. I'm not a big fan of spaceships, I like having solid earth under my feet."

The breathless, ragged huff that erupted from between him lips was a pitiful excuse of a laugh, but it was better than nothing.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Not ending on a cliffhanger! Yay!_

_Feedback?_

_Don't forget about my Tumblr account, __**birds-bees-and-wobbly-knees**__. Ask me or Gabby any questions (without purposefully asking for spoilers)._

_Much love,_

_Razz_


	34. Chapter 33

_Don't forget about my Tumblr, __**birds-bees-and-wobbly-knees**__, ask me or my characters anything. They really help me develop character and are great writing exercises for me so ask anything, just don't ask for spoilers! ;)_

_Much love,_

_Razz_

o**O**oo**O**o

_**My Neighbour is a Spartan**_

**Chapter 33**

Gabby was slowly working her way through a surprisingly delicious pudding cup when a man strolled into the med bay, plopped into the seat John had occupied until she had made him go to bed. The man then proceeded to squint at her, eyes narrowed.

Gabby slowly dragged the spoon out of her mouth, not quite sure what to do.

She took in the height, the pale skin and the shear burliness to his frame. She blinked; held out the second pudding cup.

"Pudding?"

He straightened from the speculative curve he has slouched into, eyeing the dessert before accepting.

"Thanks." He tore off the lid and unfolded the spoon attached to the underside. It looked comically ridiculous in his large hands. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

Gabby scooped in another mouthful, tapping the spoon against her lips after. "Either Jerome or Douglas," she said with a shrug, "you're definitely not Alice."

He cracked a grin, lopsided and boyish. It made him look far friendlier, but no less intimidating. "John said you were sharp enough to pick us out."

Something warm unfurled in her chest. Gabby shrugged, scraping the last bits of gooey vanilla goodness out. "Practice."

He snorted. "How long did it take you to pick him out?"

Gabby smiled. "Tell me your name first."

A bark of laughter-not nearly as disused or rough as John's had been in the beginning-left him and he rocked back.

"I'm Douglas. Jerome is the stern one, always frowning at stuff."

"Good to meet ya," Gabby offered a hand and he gripped it firmly, looking quite pleased, "and it only clicked when John was trying to actually tell me that he was the chief. There were clues, I would have figured it out eventually since Kirk is my uncle." She chuckled, "that would have been an interesting reunion if we were both still in the dark."

Douglas cocked his head to the side, staring unflinchingly at her. Gabby had expected him to chortle a little, maybe of soft guffaw, he seemed like the kind of guy to take and give cheer despite the conditioning. She stared back, cocking a brow inquiringly.

"I'm glad that he had you," Douglas said eventually, "when he was alone. Thanks for taking care of him."

"How was he," Gabby began to ask even if she dreaded the answer, "when you found him yesterday?"

Thin lips pressed thinner. The corners of his eyes tightened.

"Not good."

He didn't say more, and though she wanted to ask, Gabby didn't pry for more.

"Is the assembly still going to happen?"

Douglas blinked, gaze turning thoughtful.

"They won't try to have a physical meeting for a while now. They _will _hash out what they can via communications; likely sort out some kind of permanent system for relaying messages. Negotiating territories and rules of engagement were the most important things that needed to be done, beyond brokering the peace treaty, and they don't need to be done in person."

Gabby pulled a knee up, slinging an arm over it. The bed was softer that what she had imagined on a military ship. "Should you be telling me this? I mean, I'm a civilian. I don't have any kind of clearance."

"Well," he started.

"_Everything Douglas stated is a summary of what is being relayed to the press on Earth, and in these unusual circumstances, I'm sure that the admiral won't mind yourself knowing slightly ahead of time."_

Gabby grinned, trying to pick out a camera so that it actually felt like she was talking _to _the AI.

"Hello, Cortana."

"_Greetings, Gabby. I have news from Earth, if you'd like to hear it."_

A heavy stone landed in her stomach, chilling her to the core. "Ryan?"

"_Is in a critical, but stable, condition. He is expected to make a full recovery. Your neighbours heard the gun shot and got him to hospital, caused a bit of a riot as they ran just about every traffic light to get him there."_

Gabby slumped, letting the relief soak into her bones. "Good. That's wonderful. What about my animals. Boomer. Is someone taking care of them?"

"_A man named Rangi, when not harassing the police for any news about you, has been doing so. As well as several others. The story that we've told them is that you were kidnapped because of your affiliation with a high ranking UNSC retiree, and were going to be used as leverage." _

"Good," she muttered, mostly to herself, falling back against the pillows propped between her and the wall. "That's...good. What now? Am I going to be stuck here till we're back home?"

"_That,_" Cortana said, _"is an excellent question. So long as you have an escort of rank Private or up, you may move around the ship. Specific areas will be off-limits, but you pretty much have free range of the guest rec. Rooms. Someone will be by soon to escort you to your quarters as well."_

Gabby inhaled, feeling the air swell inside her lungs, and it tasted so much staler than the sweet air on her farm. She missed her farm with an acute ache.

"Right. Did they find my shoes?"

o**OO**o

Douglas had only stopped by on his way to a meeting, and while Gabby knew that she couldn't expect the only people she knew aboard this vessel to stay by her side, she still wished that she had someone familiar with her. This place, the air had the taste of recycled oxygen to it, slightly dry and stale, was lonely.

She sighed, glancing over at the bed the marine had occupied last night just as someone entered the room.

Her small heels clicked sharply against the floor as she strode briskly into the room, a standard military canvas bag in one hand. "Miss Edwards, I presume?" she said smoothly, coming straight to the bed.

"Yes?"

"I am Private Kowalski. These are your possessions recovered from the mercenary vessel. Please put your shoes on, and follow me to your assigned quarters." With that colourless introduction, she stepped back, falling into a straight-backed and heels together position.

_O-kay, _Gabby quickly tied her boots on, glad to have something familiar back. A peek inside the bag revealed that all of her belongings were there, including her old clothes, freshly laundered.

A small, plastic ID with 'CIVILLIAN' stamped across it was thrust before her as soon as she stood.

"Wear this in a visible place at all times. Now, if you'll follow me."

o**OO**o

Now that she wasn't dazed from being strangled and feeling less stressed about John, Gabby could pay attention to the ship as Kowalski led her through the halls. Lines were painted on the floors, different colours leading to different areas. The yellow line was the one they followed.

After endless corridors of silver and steel coloured walls, Gabby had to blink when Kowalski gestured to a door. It opened with a soft _whoosh _and suddenly there was some colour in the world again. Curiously stepping inside, as if expecting someone to jump out and pop a balloon before her face, Gabby entered the room.

"This is one of the guest civilian quarters," Kowalski spoke blandly, "as this is the wing for such guests, you are able to explore and make use of the facilities without escort. Beyond the entrance to C-Wing, you will need one. Even then, however, you should not venture beyond levels two and three, unless given express permission by someone of the rank Major and up. Any questions?"

Gabby felt a little distaste at the coldness of her demeanour, but refrained from showing it. "Can I call some people back home? Sort out some affairs, and the like."

"Any communications with Earth will need to be cleared by Admiral Hood, or Captains Shepherd or Romada. Even then, the constant connection needs to be monitored by an AI."

Gabby cocked a brow. "So that's a 'no'?"

The slightest narrowing of her eyes showed the Private's irritation. "Correct. Any other queries?"

_As a matter of fact..._

"How long before we head back?"

"At this time, that is an unknown."

_Helpful_.

"Right. I'm good, thanks." It was a real effort to not allow sarcasm to thicken her tone, but Gabby managed it. Typically she wasn't so callous, but these last few days have frayed her temper and emotions.

Kowalski nodded once, then departed. When the door slid shut, of its own violation (which was bizarre), Gabby stared around the room. Her face fell and she took a deep breath of the faintly stale air. This was so...cold.

There was faux wood furniture and a tough, durable kind of carpet on the floor. There were cream and brown accents throughout the room, making it the slightest bit warmer. But there was no window, no breeze carrying the scents of the countryside , no sunlight to warm the room. It felt very sterile, lonely.

It was almost...claustrophobic.

Gabby sighed, and fell back onto the bed.

"This has been a week from hell," she sighed to no one.

"_I wouldn't disagree with that assessment."_

Surging to her feet, Gabby spun around, searching for the source of the voice. "Hello?"

"_Hello,_" the voice replied, _"searching for my body is useless, as I do not have one."_

Gabby frowned, looking at the PA system tucked away in a corner.

"Cortana?" she hedged.

Laughter, slightly cocky, floated down. "_Hardly. I am Serina."_

"_Try not to confuse our guest, you two-bit program." _

Now _that _was Cortana. Gabby grinned a little, turning to her bag and rifling through it for a fresh shirt. "Nice to hear from you again, Cortana."

"_Likewise, Gabby. Hungry?"_

As if hearing the question, her stomach growled. The pudding cups she had shared Douglas were the only thing she'd eaten this morning. "Starved. Is there a mess hall, or a food schedule?"

"_There is, but you have free use of the kitchens provided for guests. Breakfast is still laid out, if you hurry."_

Tugging a clean shirt on, and a jumper with UNSC emblazoned across the chest since it was quite cool, Gabby attached the ID to her pants and trotted from the room. Cortana gave her directions when Gabby spun on the spot, confounded.

She got to the eating area just in time, loading a plate with plenty of eggs, bacon and fruit. A large mug of coffee, surprisingly good for ship drink, sat beside her tray as she wolfed the food down. It was warm, and sat wonderfully in her stomach.

That guy had fed her during her captivity, but with rations that left her still feeling hungry after. Having a full stomach did wonders for her frayed nerves.

Cortana had kept up the chatter while she ate, but now that they were on the same ship...

"Hey, Cortana, would it be possible for me to meet you? In person, I mean." She stuffed her hands into the pockets of the jumper, keeping them warm. "I've talked to you a couple times now, it feels weird having never actually met you."

There was a pause, and then Cortana started laughing. Gabby blushed. "_Sure. I'll meet you in the rec. Room. Fourth door on the right, swipe your ID."_

o**OO**o

"Well," said Gabby, "I'll admit that I'd pictured you as a blonde, not a bluenette."

Cortana smirked, a playful curl of sensuous lips. If Gabby were a jealous person, she might have felt more than a little bit of a twinge that _this _was the infamous AI John had had _in his suit. _

Maybe she had felt a bit of jealously.

Just a twinge.

"Do you really have the time to chat? You basically run the ship."

"_Oh, I am. And there is plenty of me left to go around. You forget that my mind is different from yours." _She pointed out fairly. "_You can multitask perhaps three different things as once, I can do a thousand."_

Gabby frowned, curling up on the plush couch nearest the hologram device Cortana was using.

"Then...how..."

Cortana's face fell, her posture losing some of the confidence. _"How was Reynolds able to take control of the MIJOLNIR armour?"_

Gabby could only nod.

For a moment, Cortana's eyes seemed to spark, the lines tracing over her figure hastening and flickering red. "_The virus he implanted contained strings of Forerunner code, and Gravemind. The bastard has some good connections to have gotten hold of those samples. There were also traces of another Smart AI, one that was supposed to have been terminated."_

There was venom in her tone, but then Cortana's voice softened into something so sad Gabby wished she could have given the AI a hug. "_I would have won, eventually. But not in time to stop him."_

If Gabby meant Reynolds or John, she didn't know. She didn't ask. Didn't want to know.

"All that matters," Gabby said at length, swallowing, "is that another war wasn't started."

Silence. Then: "_Of course." _They both shook the darkness from themselves. _"There is something I would like to ask you, Gabby, but I am not entirely sure how to approach it."_

Gabby blinked, setting her chin into her palm. "Say it as it is."

The AI seemed to study her. Gabby wondered if she could actually see out of the holograms eyes, or if was just a top-notch illusion for the humans part. "_I have known John for a long time, studied him, technically I've been in his head and heard his thoughts."_

Oh yes, that was definitely jealously picking at her heart.

"_I've read all of the reports, watched every recording, yet I have never seen behaviour like this." _The AI hiked her shoulder up. _"I don't know how to help him."_

Quite concerned, Gabby sat up straighter. "What's wrong? Was he more seriously hurt down there?"

"_No, this was, whatever it is, before we even set foot on the planet. John has been acting as if..." _the AI, a super intelligent being, was at a loss. Gabby's brows rose. "_It was like he was missing something, but couldn't find what it was that was gone."_

Gabby tilted her head at the analogy, trying to figure out what was going on. "Explain what happened to me, please."

Cortana crossed her legs and sat, hovering above the pad like Yoda or something. Then she told Gabby about how forlorn John had seemed, how sad she knew he had been.

"_He seemed so much happier when I spoke with him on the phone," _Cortana said with frustration, "_before we called him away. Before he left."_

_Before you took him away from me, _Gabby couldn't help but think.

"_Before yesterday, I had never seen him so...lost."_

Gabby had seen John lost, standing in his own living room like he didn't know right from left. She was there for him then, and would be here for him now.

As Gabby gnawed her bottom lip, deep in thought, Cortana began muttering about psychologists.

"What, what? What was that about a psychologist?"

Cortana huffed. "_When I couldn't find a solution, or a reason, for his behaviour I consulted the onboard doctor. Admiral Hood seems to understand but refuses to explain it to me, says matters of the heart need to be figured out by their owners."_

"Matters of the heart?" Gabby mumbled, heart quickening in its rhythm. "Cortana, can you please just spit out what you want to ask?"

Cortana met her gaze squarely. "_It all seems connected to you."_

Eyes the size of saucers, Gabby spluttered.

"M-me?"

"_Yes," _Cortana rolled her eyes, "_you."_

"What-"

"_Do you love him?"_

A hand must have sucker punched her in the gut, as all the air seemed to leave her body in one heavy rush. Her heart pounded with nerves, even as it sang in answer. _I do, I love him, I do I do I do._

"Why would you ask that?"

o**OO**o

John hadn't slept well the night before. Nightmares weren't unknown to him, but the ones bombarding him last night had been relentless. They just came again and again, until finally he had given up on sleep entirely.

_It's okay._

He winced, the hand not in a sling clenching. The feel of being truly, utterly helpless swam over him.

Laughter echoed from around the corner. He forced his body to relax, wiping any expression from his face. The marines passed without incident. He reached the meeting room without further issues, finally forcing all feelings aside and retreating into the stoic shell he had been conditioned into for years.

The guards stationed outside saluted, and John nodded in return.

He'd barely stepped forward when the familiar click of heels made him pause.

"Chief, may I have a word before we enter?"

John tilted his head down at Arabella. She was composed, as always, but he knew that there were lines of stress in her skin that would never retreat after this week.

"Of course."

She gestured him forward. "Thank you, this will not take long."

They paused a little ways out of hearing distance of the guards, both of whom politely kept their eyes elsewhere.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

Arabella hummed lightly. "I believe so, but I would like express my concerns over how Miss Edwards is coping with the events over the past few days."

His heart sped up. "Go on."

"She declined to speak with the onboard physiologist, but I strongly recommend that she do so. You and I have been trained to cope with such stressful situations, but I sincerely doubt Miss Edwards has. Being kidnapped, held hostage, and then nearly killed by such a close friend, are extremely stressful events, and I am concerned what the effect on her psyche will be."

_It's alright, John. _

He swallowed. "And you want me to convince her to see the doctor?"

Arabella nodded hesitantly. "That, or speak to her yourself. She trusts you, and you have experience in dealing with such horrors. Talk to her. If necessary, I can prescribe some sleeping medication. Anything beyond the basic sleep assistance though, and I'll have to recommend she see Doctor Issac for a proper examination. I wouldn't be surprised if he signs off on some anxiety drugs as well."

She didn't need to tell him to do that. But maybe Gabby hadn't been as together as she'd looked.

_It's okay. It's alright, John._

John wanted to ring the life out of Reynolds, and that _bastard _that had kidnapped her in the first place.

"I'll see what she thinks."

Arabella nodded. "Excellent. Shall we head in?"

o**OO**o

"Good to see you here, son," Hood said once Romada took the hint and wondered off to talk to someone else. "How're you holding up?"

"Fine, sir."

The two dislocated fingers were wrapped and braced, his damaged arm in a sling. It was a minor annoyance, but they would be removed in under a week. Bless Spartan healing, and bless the highly advanced medical equipment onboard.

Hood levelled a gaze at John that he had never seen before. There was a great depth to it, decades of experience in life and war. Eventually, the admiral emitted a short sigh.

"If you say so, Chief."

That unsettled John, but he ignored the feeling and moved on. "What are our objectives for today?"

"Finish up this damn summit. If we can at least set up a permanent communications system and organise a secondary summit, I'll call it a victory for today."

John nodded. "And what of Reynolds?"

Hood clasped his hands at the small of his back. "That sack of shit will be tried for treason; his contacts in ONI will get the same treatment."

"So he did have moles?"

"Yes, and damn the bastards for enabling a man to nearly start another war."

While a vengeful part of John, one that still screamed for justice for his lost siblings, was vindicated to hear that Reynolds would be tried with the worst of mankind. But still...

"What kind of fallout can we expect?"

"That's what the second part of this meeting will be dedicated to; but no matter how we handle this, we cannot avoid the truth. Lying about his motivations or methods will just get us deeper into the shit pile Reynolds dumped on us."

The truth.

"Sir, I'd like to request that Gabby be kept anonymous."

Hood lifted a brow, but the corner of his mouth followed. Something...odd made steel eyes seem silver.

"Don't think that she can handle being in the spotlight?"

John shifted on his feet. "I have no doubt that she would be able to handle the media, it's the people that would try to make a symbol of her that concern me. Like Reynolds already tried too."

"Ah. And with her obvious stance on the Human-Elite Alliance, there would be extremists out for her blood."

"Precisely why it would be best for her to remain anonymous. I am worried for her safety."

Hood nodded, accepting John's argument. "The thought had already crossed my mind. I don't suppose Miss Edwards would be very accepting of going into witness protection and being relocated?"

John immediately replied in the negative.

"I'll do what I can." The door _swooshed_ open. Thel, Rtas and Jal'teiss entered. "Let's get this meeting underway so we can head home."

The words were out of his mouth before he'd truly thought them through. "Sir...thank you, Admiral. Gabby is very...important to me."

There was that smirk again.

"Don't mention it, son. You've done a great deal for humanity, it's time to return the favour."

John straightened, face serious. "It was never about gaining favours."

A chuckle.

"That's precisely why I offered."

o**OO**o

"_There are two marines that would like to speak with you, Gabby."_

Gabby set the book she had been flicking through down. She had been too distracted to read anyway. "Who and why?"

"_Privates Locksley and Haze," _Cortana replied, and she sounded a smidge amused, "_they are begging for a game of poker, if you care to indulge them."_

Gabby grinned, glad for the distraction. Her thoughts surrounding the conversation with Cortana earlier made her anxious and nauseous and thrilled all at once. "I'm okay to leave with them, right?"

"_So long as you don't try to go anywhere you shouldn't, yes. Have fun, try not to make them cry."_

Gabby sashayed out of the room, then winced at the pain in her feet. Walking at a more sedate pace, she swiped her ID card through the provided slot. The door split apart, revealing a widely grinning Haze, and a more sedate Locksley.

"So you'll play?" Haze said, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Yeah," she chuckled when he slapped William on the shoulder.

"I told you would play. Man, I am good at reading people."

William snorted. "Not during a game."

Adrian had a retort ready, but Gabby cut them off. "Do I get to meet the rest of your squad?"

They turned, keeping her between them. "Yeah, we're all very eager to play the person who taught the Chief to kick ass." Adrian enthused, a bounce in his step. "And he _kicked ass_. We're all newbies, save Yanks – but he sucks anyway – and would love to learn a trick or two from you."

Gabby felt a little bit prideful at that, but at the mention of John her heart began to race. Shaking herself internally, she forced another grin.

"Let's have some fun then."

Haze rubbed his hands together gleefully.

"Excellent."

They kept up the chatter, mindless things about the ship or their lives. But they never asked about what had happened, about how she had been stolen from her home. They didn't bring it up, and she was grateful.

Gabby dreaded returning to that cold room alone. To that empty place that seemed drained of laughter and life. Brown and silver, no greens or red or yellows. No sunshine or gentle breeze. Her lungs starved for fresh air, her body craved the warmth of the sun.

Gabby hated ships. Everything about them. The confinement; the peril if they came under attack. A person was powerless in a ship.

"Hey, Gabby, you in there?"

She batted away the finger tapping on her forehead.

"Yeah, I got a little sidetracked."

They traded a look, and she saw the silent conversation.

"Are you, um, are you okay?" William started, so awkwardly that Gabby took pity on him and pet his shoulder.

"I'm fine, just a bit out of sorts."

Horrific understatement of the century.

There was doubt in their eyes, but they moved on regardless.

"Here's the Rec. Room," Adrian swept his arm grandly as the door slid apart, revealing a room that she would have paid good money to get access to when she was at university.

There were a couple of pool tables, a bar (which she bet was full of non-alcoholic drinks only, darts, various other game tables. There was a library beside a comfortable seating area, couches and big, cushy armchairs. People sat at other games tables, a pair of women were hollering at a replay of a football game, others sat around watching a movie.

This...this was good. This was life and living.

Gabby inhaled, smiled, and stepped inside.

o**OO**o

"That went better than I had hoped."

John cracked his neck before cutting a look at Thel.

"Can't have been hoping for much then."

His mandibles twisted into what John had come to know as a smirk.

"Perhaps." Thel stretched out his long neck, making it crack several times, and loud enough that a passing marine looked a bit green. Some people just couldn't handle hearing joints crack, no matter how long they had been in the UNSC. "What will you do now?"

He stretched his arm, frowning at the sling before sighing and removing it. The pain was easily ignored, and so long as he didn't use the arm it would be fine. The doctors would probably disagree with John's take on his arm, but it had irritated him during the whole meeting.

"I'm not sure."

He wanted to see Gabby, but even after what she had said last night, he didn't know if she wanted to see him.

Thel peered at him curiously. "I had thought you would visit Gabrielle. Considering how...violently she reacted to Reynolds threat towards you, I had thought..."

When he trailed off, John finally managed to look at him.

"Thought what? And how did she react?"

Thel seemed fond of the memory as he recounted it. "I believe her exact words were 'where is that bastard' and 'I'm gonna turn his balls into earrings'."

John actually froze.

"Gabby said _that_?"

"Indeed, and you will be pleased to note that Rtas and myself now fully understands why you so often name your ships after people, or refer to them as 'she'."

John trotted to catch up, unable to stop the half-wild grin from his face.

Dammit, he loved-

John froze again.

He loved her.

A wave of heat spread across his skin, followed by a flurry of chills. He felt it, in his heart, that it was true.

"Spartan?"

John rubbed at his chest, feeling his heart thunder along despite the lack of exertion. A cold sweat broke over his skin.

"Chief?"

It felt like he had run a marathon. This wasn't the emotion he felt when he thought of the other Spartans, or Thel, or even Cortana.

This was...this was his heart having a mind of its own. This was feeling like he had just free-falled without a parachute for a thousand feet and plunged into the freezing ocean. This was a thousand tiny pricks of ice spreading across his skin.

It was terrifying. It was amazing. It was wonderful.

"John!"

He blinked, drawing in a deep gulp of air. Sunset eyes were wide with worry, a long-fingered hand closed around his uninjured arm.

John looked at Thel, wonder in his eyes.

"I love her."

o**OO**o

Gabby winked, dragging the winnings to her little section of the table.

"That's how it's done, ladies and gents."

Haze bent forward, clutched his head and groaned like a zombie.

"Why...why did we let her play when we were betting with actual stuff?"

Stevens, a quiet but pleasant woman to talk to, rolled her eyes. "They're just cookies."

"But I _like _cookies!"

Gabby stacked said treats neatly. There were crumbs all over the table, but no one gave a damn. They were having too much fun to pay attention to minor details like that.

Alpha and Omega, Gabby swept a happy gaze over the assembled group. They would do well, they would inspire the next generation of enlistment.

"Another game?" she asked innocently.

"I warn you that I will win my share back," Mia'tee intoned, staring at the large pile of cookies before Gabby, "but not tonight. We must report to Chief Williams before the hour is out."

A round of groans went through the table, from the humans at least. Snatching one of the sandwich bags Williams was handing out, Gabby packed all her winnings away, much like everyone else (who had winnings, at least).

With a laugh, Gabby split her winnings and thrust the bag in Adrian's hands. He giggled like a delighted child, immediately shoving one in his mouth.

"Thanks," he said through a mouthful of crumbs, "I'll walk you to your room."

The thought of that solitary place made her seize. She swallowed, forcing yet another smile. But then she heard a voice, one that rumbled like distant thunder but carried the warmth of a spring afternoon. It made her smile real, it made her dizzy with happiness.

It made her feel strong enough to lift a car and run from her Sydney to Perth and have energy to spare.

"Get to training, Private. I'll escort Gabby."

Gabby turned, and there was John.

The others saluted, drifting away with waves good-bye and promises of another game, but Gabby only had eyes for John.

Cortana's conversation rang through her head, like an echo that just wouldn't die.

"_Why would you ask that?"_

_Cortana fiddled with her fingers while Gabby held her breath._

"_Because I think he loves you."_

o**OO**o

There seemed to be something on her mind, John thought as they made their way through the ship. He wanted more time with her, to talk and think. Arabella's conversation came to mind, and he frowned a little.

Gabby seemed okay at first glance, but he noticed that as they reached the threshold to the civilian guest area, she was hesitating.

As she swiped her ID card there was a faint tremor in her hand. He nearly stopped himself, but as he saw the reluctance in her hazel eyes, John reached out and laid a hand on her back.

"Are you alright?"

Her grip on the ID card tightened.

"I don't think so." Gabby looked up at him, and his heart broke a little. "Can you stay?"

John slid his hand higher, squeezed her shoulder.

"As long as you need."

o**O**oo**O**o

_There we go, another chapter finally up._


	35. Chapter 34

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

_Chapter 34_

The first nightmare came hard and fast.

_Gold and green. The burning lance inched closer, trembling and humming with power. She felt the heat-oh god, the heat-it was so close. So close to cooking her flesh and severing her head from her body. The gold was impassive, unemotive._

_The heat came closer, sweat beading across her skin. The tears on her face were warm, but her heart was so cold as the sword began to burn her hair._

_A scream-_

Gabby startled awake, jerking violently. She twisted in the sheets, panicking at the feeling of confinement. Sweet dotted her pale skin. She kicked the sheets away angrily, pressing a hand over her heart. It crashed again and again against her ribcage, almost like a bucking bronco, wild and flighty.

Blinking into the dark, Gabby sought out a familiar silhouette. When hazel eyes found nothing but the outline of an empty chair, she slumped her exhausted frame forward. Hugging her legs to her chest, she pressed her face into her knees until fireworks bloomed behind her lids. A sigh slowly left her.

It was selfish, and unrealistic, to think that John would have been able to stay the whole night. And Gabby knew how bad the gossip-rings had been in a small town highschool, the scuttlebutt on the ship would be horrendous if anyone saw John leaving the guest wing after being there for _hours. _

_I think he loves you._

Gabby lifted her face, if only to bury it in her hands. The sound of frustration that came out of her was more like one of Boomer's growls.

"I'm normally good at this stuff," she said to no one, so entirely fed up with how complicated everything was. Love wasn't simple, it never was, but was it supposed to be this hard as well? Was she supposed to feel more powerful than a warlord, yet also feel as if a feather could knock her over with how light she felt?

"What stuff?"

"Blimey!_"_ Gabby, having nearly sprung right out of bed, gaped at the open doorway, in which stood a bemused John, "I thought you'd left."

He glided back inside and reclaimed the armchair, setting a book down on the nightstand. "I promised that I'd stay." He frowned, flicking on the lamp. The room filled with warm, yellow light. "Are you alright?"

_Gold. Light. Heat._

"No," she admitted, shivering as the sweat cooled, "no I'm not alright."

John's gaze was heavy, and while most people would have looked away, he didn't. "Was it about what happened?" he swallowed, jaw ticking, "was it about me?"

Gabby didn't want to tell him, but she didn't have the heart to lie either.

"Yeah, it was."

Brown eyes were full of grief. She saw his hands flex against his thighs. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" she said immediately, loudly enough that John cocked a brow. "I want you to stay, just...not here." The room already felt stifling, but now it felt too hot. "Let's watch a movie."

He followed without a word as Gabby wadded up a blanket and trotted from the room. The more open recreational room for the guest wing was empty, which Gabby was thankful for. The only other person she could expect here was Arabella, as apparently the only other civilians were dead or locked up in solitary.

Gabby couldn't even think of that poison-eyed bastards name without feeling like she wanted to throw up or punch something.

Still jittery with a thousand different emotions, Gabby flicked through the movies stored. When she was scrolling through the same list for the third time without even seeing the titles, a large hand settled over hers. Her fingers stilled on the remote, the warmth of another's skin seeping into hers like a balm.

"Talk to me, Gabby."

And so she did.

The dam broke, and John listened. He said not word as she recounted those terrifying nights as a captive, and she went on and on about how she had felt physically sick with fear and worry for Ryan. He listened as she ranted about missing her farm and how robbed she felt about being stolen away from her home by some psychopath.

John listened when her voice cracked as she recounted her nightmare. He waited until the words just ran out, and then he pulled her close, so close that she could feel his heartbeat against her cheek.

"I'm not looking for someone to coddle me and protect me from all the bad things in the universe," she mumbled. Her eyes felt a little too moist, but her body was more relaxed than it had been in a while.

"I know," he whispered against her hair. Did she just imagine a pair of lips pressing briefly to the crown of her head? "I've never coddled you, but I hope you don't mind me being there to protect you next time."

She smiled against his shirt, eyes falling shut. "My neighbour is a Spartan, that should intimidate most possible attackers away." Fingers traced up and down her spine soothingly.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"I feel a lot of things for you John," she mumbled unthinkingly, "but fear isn't one of them."

"You...what do you feel, then?"

_Oh shit. _Why had she said that? This wasn't the time, or the place. The hand that had been tracing her spine stilled, fingers spreading across her ribs. It felt so much hotter, leaving tingles in its wake.

Gabby pulled away, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. There was resolve, a burning curiosity in his brown eyes, and she knew that he would not let her go without an answer.

_I think he loves you. _

But what if Cortana was wrong? Gabby couldn't lose him.

"Gabby?"

She blinked, feeling like a deer staring into oncoming headlights. _Danger danger, you stupid animal, run away before it's too late. _

No, she decided, no running.

Gabby cleared her throat. "It's true, what I said. I feel a lot of things for you, John. Some of those feelings...are things I haven't felt in a long time."

He was-crikey, he seemed to be holding his breath.

"Are they good feelings?" he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Gabby lifted a shoulder in a shrug. She had always been honest with him, not point in lying. "It depends. If the feelings are returned, then it's good. If they aren't, well, that possibility has been the main reason why I haven't brought this up already."

o**OO**o

John's hands were restless. They flexed, closing into fists against his thighs again. Gabby felt things. Things she hadn't felt in a long time, years, he guessed. Did that mean that...that she might feel something for him? Something _more_ that friendship?

Her skin had risen to the normal healthy flush he knew, but she seemed so nervous. John could see her pulse fluttering along, but she didn't look away. Gabby was far too stubborn to break the look first, and never for something this important.

"And what would you say," John began, "if I told you that I was feeling things too?"

Gabby drew in a quiet breath, the soft hiss showing her surprise. "What kind of things?"

The air felt thick in his chest, as if it were full of smoke and he couldn't get enough air. "Things that confused me, for a while." He admitted. "Things that I have never experienced before."

It seemed like she was choosing her words carefully, restraining herself from blurting out questions. That was what he truly admired about Gabby, she had patience and restraint with others, considering their feelings above her own. She was a balm, a cooling breeze on a hot day.

She was his gravity.

"How do you feel?"

John slowly reached out, brushing a lock of those sunshine strands behind her ear. She leaned into his hand and he, daring to do so, cupped her cheek.

"Happy. Wonderful. Powerful." He recited, voice tender. "I feel like I've been shot with adrenaline, like I've fallen a thousand feet into the ocean."

The glow of the screen made her skin look etheral, it highlighted the lighter flecks in her eyes. They almost seemed lit by an internal fire.

Gabby took his hand, pressing it between hers. "Does it scare you?"

He tilted his head, staring at their hands. "A little."

Teeth flashing, she smiled. "It scares me too." She took a breath, tucking her feet under her. "Are these feelings about me?"

"Yes. What you feel, do you feel for me?" he asked, voice only a little shaky.

Idle patterns were traced into the centre of his palm. She looked raw, like she was exposing something that had never been shown before but expected to be hurt. "Yes, it's taken me a while to figure them out. But they're for you. Only for you." She smiled then, and it was a brilliant thing that filled him with hope that _yes, she does feel something_.

Gabby looked up at him, smiling and filling his heart with so much hope it felt like it could burst.

"I love you, John."

And in that moment, John realised that Cortana was right.

He had luck.

o**OO**o

The words had always seemed so hard to say, but now they left her tongue so easily, soft and sweet as fairy-floss.

Gabby grinned so wide that her face hurt, because John looked relived, he looked stunned and bewildered and _happy._ It was glorious. This man she had just admitted to loving looked as if he was about to explode with delight.

"Love," he began, carefully twining their fingers together, and_-holy crap, was this actually happening?_ "Is not something that has ever been explained to me, but you...make me feel alive. What I feel for you...I don't know how to even begin labelling it."

The contrast between their skin was stark. He had gain a light tan since moving across the road, but she was still darker. His skin was scarred, lashed with silver and pink. He was damaged, hurting, and maybe even suffering from PTSD, but Gabby loved him, and wouldn't have him any other way.

"So don't label it," she squeezed his hands, "just...feel."

She remembered seeing so many couple reuniting as refugee ships landed, people running together, crashing and tangling until they were just a mess of limbs and hair. They always broadcasted these scenes on the news, stealing what small glimpses of happiness could be found during the war.

Would that be Gabby and John? Two bodies moulding together as they kissed with abandon?

Christ, she hoped so.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he said, looking like he didn't want to admit just how lost he was even as they drifted closer.

A soft laugh. "People rarely do, and I think you'll pick it up quickly enough."

"You think so?" Lips quirked up into a half-grin.

"I know so." Gabby's hand was steady as she pulled it free and mimicked what he had done before, cupping the side of his face. "I'm so proud of you, John."

He leaned closer as she stroked fingers through his hair. "But that's not all you feel."

The laugh that bubbled inside of her was bright as the sun. "No, it's most definitely not."

They were so close, noses inches apart.

"I've never done this before," he whispered, baritone subdued but rough.

"Then close your eyes," she spoke, equally as tender, "and follow my lead."

The deep brown of his eyes remained upon her, but slowly, he shut his eyes. Gabby's chest swelled with the display of trust, even as she shuffled closer.

She had to go slow, let him learn and gain confidence. As a teenager, Gabby had been a hormonal, nervous mess when it came to her first kiss. Grant Bryer had been wet and sloppy, but enthusiastic, if a little too eager to take things beyond first base.

This would not be like that.

o**OO**o

The urge to open his eyes was immense, but John trusted Gabby, so he kept them shut. It was a struggle to keep his breathing regulated, to keep it steady and smooth.

"Do you trust me?"

The words flowed over him, her low tone soothing like one of the best painkillers.

"Always."

Fingers brushed along his jaw, skimming across his skin and tracing the scars without hesitation. With the lightness of a butterflies wings, Gabby's fingers followed a path across his face. They mapped the counters of his hard face before coming back to rest at his jaw.

"I'm going to kiss you," she breathed, breath fanning over him, "if you want me to stop, just say so."

He said nothing, and then finally, _finally_, there was the soft press of lips against his.

John didn't expect the sudden rush that swept over him, snatching away the air in his lungs until he felt lightheaded. Under her hands he felt too hot, but it was a good heat. Her hands came up, spearing through his hair and massaging his scalp.

_Follow my lead. _

John brought his hands up, threading his hands into her hair. A soft little moan came from her throat. That was...good? It felt good, better than good. Emboldened, he dug his fingers deeper, and when her mouth opened to draw in a surprised gasp, he dared to go a little further.

He had seen couples reunited, he did have a _vague _idea of how to make a kiss a little more passionate.

o**OO**o

Gabby shivered, because _wow. _Their noses bumped and their teeth banged together, but they moved into a slow, easy rhythm that had her toes curling. Never before had Gabby been so thrilled that John was a fast learner.

The hand she had smoothed down to his chest fisted into the material of his shirt, and she could feel how fast his heart was going. _Tha-dum Tha-dum Tha-dum_. He twitched at every touch, the low rumble in his chest sending a delighted zap down her spine.

As they slowed, and eventually pulled apart, Gabby leaned their foreheads together, fighting to control the wild urges telling her to _keep bloody kissing him_. Their laughter was breathless, but true.

They still clutched to each other, neither inclined to part completely.

Brown met hazel. She giggled as John tried to untangle his fingers from her mussed hair.

He pressed their lips together again in a sweet, chaste kiss. "I love you," he said, "Gabby, I love you." He said it again and again against her skin, and each time her smile grew wider and brighter.

Well, she wouldn't be having anymore nightmares tonight.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Short and sweet._

_I'm not the best as kissing scenes, so feedback would be appreciated._

_Love,_

_Razz_


	36. Chapter 35

_Sorry about the lengthy wait between updates._

_Enjoy!_

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

o**OO**o

If a young Gabby Edwards had been told that one day she would be designing formal clothing for elites, she would have laughed herself silly.

"So, can you explain why you don't just use the formal-wear you already have?" Gabby asked, flicking through a series of images on the datapad Thel had set before her. The pictures made her the designer in her quiver with anticipation. And the _challenge _of designing clothing for _another race_-

Gabby had to stop her fingers from twitching, so eager they were to hold a pencil and start sketching.

Thel's claws clicked as he drummed them on the surface of the desk. They were in a small meeting room, one with an actual _plant _in it. She may have picked the seat closest to the greenery, just so she could get a whiff of the freshness.

"It is...reminiscent of the prophets influence. We wish to sever all ties with those mongrels."

Gabby tried not to focus on the simmering anger she detected, knowing it wasn't directed at she. "How is it reminiscent of that?"

A claw skimmed over some silvery script, something Gabby didn't understand. "This is the language of the Forerunners. It is inscribed upon every grab for events such as this."

Stifling a smile, Gabby asked, "and just whose idea was it to have a ball upon our return?"

She thought that he grimaced. "I do not know. Though it seemed like a good idea, before I fully understood what a ball was."

It was impossible to keep the grin away. "You mean the dancing part of it?"

He growled.

She giggled.

"Alright, I won't poke fun." She smirked, "Or I'll _dance _around the issue."

"Gabrielle." He said in a warning tone, though there was a slight glimmer of amusement to his sunset eyes. "You seem in a fine mood today."

A delighted flush stole over her skin, it was impossible to keep the giddy grin off her face. "I've reason to be happy."

A deep, rumbling chuckle came from him, causing her to raise a questioning brow.

"It is nothing," he swept a hand gracefully through the air. "You are acquainted with the members of Alpha and Omega, yes?"

"Yep."

"Good, they have agreed to field any questions you may have. All designs must meet my approval, of course, but they will help you where they can."

"Not to seem rude, but why me?"

"It was passed onto me that you have experience in designing garments, and I trust that you will approach this task with respect and intelligence, knowing how important this event will be."

"High praise from the Arbiter." She murmured, inwardly preening, "How much leeway do I have with this?"

He blinked. "You accept this task?"

"Sure, I haven't been able to do more than make a few costumes for my niece and some of her friends. And this looks like it will be fun."

"Fun?" Thel drew his head up. "Creating formal wear for Elites is _fun_?"

Gabby opened her mouth, shut it, and then said, "Is something wrong with that?"

"No," he shook his head gracefully, "certainly not. I was expecting you to be more daunted by this undertaking."

"It's just clothing, Thel. And I do understand that what you wear will be leaving an impression on everyone. Looks are everything at balls, especially UNSC hosted ones with press and dignitaries and those people." She smiled reassuringly, petting his armoured forearm. "I know what I'm doing."

o**OO**o

"What are you doing?"

Gabby growled out a cuss, stabbing the screen with her finger.

"I don't know! How the hell do I work this thing?"

The projected 3D model of an elite looked like it was wearing a moo-moo.

Adrian finally stopped laughing long enough to take a desperate gulp of air. She threw a wadded up paper ball at him. The ball bounced off his head while Mia'tee glided over and fixed the model for her.

"Thanks," Gabby said, focusing on the model. "I think that I'll stick to the sketchpad and leave this thing alone for now."

"A wise decision," the Elite said in her double-toned voice.

"Are you well, Adrian?" Stevens asked, dragging herself away from flipping through some of the sketches Gabby had already drawn.

Taking the seat opposite the other blonde, Gabby returned to working on her ideas. She already had some designs that the Elites approved of. She was trying to work some metal segments into the outfits, to show status like their armour did. It was proving tricky.

"I'm guessing that you guys will be going to this ball."

That shut Adrian up. "Yeah," he said glumly, dragging himself into a chair. "I hate these fruity dances. I didn't even go to my prom, Coach Dickens dance lessons had me running for the hills."

"I can guess what a bunch of highschoolers would have called him behind his back," Gabby snorted, making a minor adjustment to a shoulder arrangement. Note to self, shoulder pads are a big _no. _

He grinned, "Oh yeah, Coach Dick was a menace. Looked like a yeti stuffed into gym shorts a size too small."

Mia'tee narrowed her serpentine gaze, "What is a yeti?"

Adrian launched into a graphic explanation, while Stevens leaned a little closer to Gabby, lowering her tone as if she was about to whisper a secret.

"Why are you doing this?" Stevens asked, icy eyes speculative. "Making all of this will take more than the few days it will take us to get back to earth. Don't you have a farm to run?"

A quick glance told her that the others had drifted away. "I love my farm, but design had always been my passion."

"And?"

Gabby nearly rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "_And _Thel asked me too. If you're pressing the question I guess scuttlebutt is bursting at the seams."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Stevens leaned back, casting a curious look up and down Gabby. "You could say that," she cocked her head to the side, "but there is a lot going on right now."

Trepidation gnawed at her. "Such as?"

"Such as the Chief being spotted leaving the guest wing very early this rotation."

Gabby had no reason to be embarrassed, nor did she feel inclined to be. All she did was smile, going back to her sketching. There weren't any regulations against what they had done.

Steven's though...Gabby frowned, peering back over at her. "What?"

"It's true?"

Seeing no reason to lie, Gabby nodded. "Nothing happened, not really."

Maybe she did lie a little.

"But you two are...together?"

Gabby thought about it. They hadn't discussed anything, but they had settled into a new part of their relationship, not wanting to define anything. They loved each other, and that was enough for now. There was still so much to explore before labels came into it.

"In a sense," she admitted quietly, even as saying it out loud made a part of her squeal with excitement, "we love each other."

While Steven's did smile, she looked a little disappointed. "I guess I lose then."

"Lose?" Gabby sat straighter, eyes widening, "bets? You placed bets on us?"

"Yep, and I lost."

Stunned, and a little angry, Gabby gaped at who she thought had been more mature than the men in her squad. "Why?"

"Because there are still people on board that think that Chief is a robot. A betting pool like this says otherwise. Crude as it may seem, we were just trying to help."

Still a little miffed, Gabby sighed. "I guess I can see that. Scuttlebutt is impossible to stop anyway."

Stevens smirked, chuckling under her breath. "Very true. You know the elites have already given you a nickname?"

Worried, and a little curious, Gabby eyed the four gathered around the nearest pool table. The recreational room was far emptier this time, but this time the quiet was nice. "What is it?"

Her smirk pulled up into a smile. "The Demons Mate."

Gabby buried her face into her hands. "Oh Jesus."

Steven's laughed. It was a quiet sound, but hearty and rich, making her shoulders shudder and her eyes crinkle. The skin around her scar pulled strangely as the woman smiled broadly.

"Yeah, it's a little odd, but considering just who the Demon is and how the Elites respect him? I wouldn't take offense."

Gabby certainly wouldn't be. In truth, she felt a strange little thrill of pleasure warm her from the inside out at the title.

"Anyway, if you are actually upset about the betting just harass one of those idiots," Stevens pointed lazily at Adrian and Mia'Tee at the other end of the room. Adrian was drawing a cartoonish yeti on a spare piece of paper. "They made the most profit."

Rolling a shoulder dismissively, Gabby went back to sketching, eyes flicking over to Mia'Tee every now and then for referencing. "Nah, so long as no harm comes from this I won't cause any trouble." She met Steven's gaze sternly. "And so long as the bets don't get any more personal."

Seeing the seriousness that Gabby projected, the other wiped any amusement from her countenance. "You got it. I can't control most of the ship, but we're on your side, the Chiefs side."

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Thanks." Her smile got a little wider, a little softer and sweeter. "Really, it's nice that John's got people like you in the military crowd."

Steven's lent her arm on the table, resting her chin in her hand with a subdued look of wonder. She watched Gabby like one might look at a miracle unfolding before them.

"What?" Gabby asked at the intense look.

"Holy shit," Steven's breathed around a chuckle, "you really have fallen for him."

Gabby sat back in her chair, remembering the warmth she had been surrounded by when she'd woken up on the couch hours ago. She had felt so safe and secure wrapped in John's arms, with his heart beat drumming against her ear. It had been hard to get up, the desire to stay curled against him almost winning out with her need to use the damn bathroom.

"Yeah," Gabby said, heart beating faster at the thought of the man she loved, "I really have."

"Damn girl," Steven's whistled, "you are so far gone that even cupid can't keep up."

"Shut up," she lightly whacked the soldier on the shoulder as her face tinged pink. "You're right, but shut it."

The other snorted, fighting a smirk.

o**OO**o

Later, the group held a whole table, so similar to the metal slabs bolted to the floor in her highschool, in the mess hostage for dinner. The rest of the mixed squads were already there.

The elites had some oddly...colourful things on their trays, but Gabby was quite happy with the assortment of rehydrated lumps that could or could not be vegetables in front of her. With enough gravy slathered over everything she couldn't see the unappetising lumps anyway.

She worked in her notebook as the others chattered, content to simply be in the presence of others. She had a number of designs that were both pleasing to elites and humans. She was making an effort to integrate some metal plating into the designs without it looking threatening, merely strong.

Though no matter how she ended up dressing Thel or the others they would still look intimidating, even if she decked them in bubblegum pink and feather boas.

"What are you doing?"

Gabby very nearly shrieked and stabbed the pencil at the presence suddenly behind her, but managed to refrain herself at the last second. She had to control herself when around skittish creatures like horses.

"_Christ_, John," she gasped, pressing a hand to her thundering heart, "I told you not to sneak up on me."

The others weren't sure whether to be amused or concerned. Her face had gone bone-white, and there was a tremor to her hands.

John cocked a brow, not looking contrite, but apologetic. "Sorry, habit."

"Yeah, well, I'm still putting a bell around your neck when we get home. Last time someone snuck up on me I wound up with a needle jabbed in my neck."

He blinked, and then he looked truly sorry. "Gabby-"

"Don't," she held up a hand as if to physically halt the words she knew he was going to say, "it isn't your fault Reynolds and his minion were assholes."

All she got in return was a non-descript _hmpf_ before he took a seat beside her.

Haze saluted John before watching her closely. "You alright there, Gabby?"

She waved the concern off. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just startled." She tapped the end of John's nose with her pencil. "And I was serious about the bell."

John managed a small smirk. He wasn't fond of public displays or anything, but the fact that he has chosen to sit so close to her with other people around was touching. And his eyes were still that gentle, sweet brown that had her heart melting into a big puddle of goo.

Stevens was smiling behind the rim of her cup. The others flicked curious glances their way occasionally, but didn't say anything and went back to their chattering.

Gabby could tell that others in the mess recognised John as the Chief, and Gabby as the kidnapped civilian (and boy did that title leave her rankled), but if John heard any gossip starting up he neglected to mention it.

"What are you working on?" he reiterated, sipping from a mug that smelt like it had coffee in it.

She pushed the try away completely and pulled the notebook closer. After that fright, unintentional or not, her appetite was gone. "A project for Thel, um, Arbiter."

She flicked through a few pages, showing him various designs. John looked fairly amused by some of the more...outgoing designs (which, she would admit, were mostly for amusement), but murmured approval at the latest ones.

"What are they for?"

"A ball. Bunch of big-wigs and reps will be there, and the Elites don't have any formal wear that that suits them now they separate from the Covenant." Hazel eyes were slightly cheeky as she grinned at him. "Arbiter said that you mentioned that I liked designing and could sew." He hadn't said it specifically, but it wasn't hard to figure it out.

"I did," he shrugged a shoulder, but there was a faint smile on his face. "I didn't think that something like this would happen though. You don't mind?"

"'course I don't, not only is this fun, but he's my friend."

"Wait," Haze spread his arms wide, as if he were keeping two frothing combatants apart, "I thought you just got nominated for this because you did a degree or something, but you're friends with him? _The _Arbiter?"

It was only because John was beside her, sides pressed together, than she felt the subtle tension winding his muscles up. Now they were all watching her curiously. Even the elites were silent, though their gaze held more scrutiny.

"Yes."

Steven's chuckled, shaking her head. "Spartans, Elites, don't tell me that you've got a secret Grunt penpal hiding somewhere?"

That drew a fair few chuckles. "No, I don't."

William rubbed his thumb back and forth over his chin. "Makes sense."

It is only when the squads threw questioning gazes his way that Gabby realised he had not meant to say that aloud. He flushes deeply, squirming in his seat.

"What makes sense, Locksley?" John's voice was a gentle rumble against her side, sending a quiet thrill tingling along her skin.

"Um, sir, knowing the relationships between Mrs. Edwards, the Arbiter and yourself," he fumbled awkwardly, "it makes more sense as to why she was kidnapped in the first place. The connections, plus whatever evidence Reynolds and his lackey would likely have planted, would have pointed to some fabricated crime that would have had the media salivating at the story."

Though he nodded, John's eyes were tight. Underneath the table, she pressed her ankle a little more firmly against his, offering silent support. He did not look at her, but his leg shifted so that it too pressed back.

"That's what the theory is." John watched William with a considering light to his eyes. "I'd appreciate it if you put together a report on your theory, or theories if you have more, and send them to your commanding officer. I'll let her know they're coming, and get you access to the investigation."

William was stunned, unblinking and eyes wide until Yanks slapped him on the back. "Lookit you! Impressing everyone with your Sherlockian-ness, and with only info that you've gotten from the scuttlebutt."

"Shuddup," he grumbled to his beaming squadmate. "I'll get right on it, sir."

John dipped his head as the man, looking just a little more confidant than before, left the room, Yanks skipping after him and chattering his ear off.

"I think that you just made his day," Gabby said with a grin, nudging his arm with her shoulder. "You big softy."

John just reached around and gently yanked the hood of her borrowed jumper up and pulled it over her face.

The squads chuckles and laughter had her blushing, and maybe John really didn't care if the scuttlebutt would be racing around with jet-powered speed before they even left the mess, because he was smiling so softly and looking at her like that that even the unappetising mush on her tray would pick up on the affection between them.

Gabby pushed the hood back with a laugh, ignoring the people outside of their table would weren't even bothering to pretend they weren't watching anymore. She went back to sketching as the others wrapped up dinner.

They spent another twenty minutes just talking, making an effort to include John in on the conversation as Gabby become so involved in sketching that everything else faded to a drone around her.

"Mrs. Edwards," a deep-toned, almost melodious in the strange sub-harmonic hum all elites had, voice draw her from her tunnel-vision, "I have just received an order to escort you to the Arbiters office. He wishes to see the progress you have made."

This was the first time she had heard Ulys speak, he had been only a silent fixture by Steven's side. It took her a moment to blink the world outside her sketchbook back into focus.

"Alrighty." John slid out so that she could do the same. Damn bench chairs.

"I have a meeting as well," he said in explanation when she raised a brow in question. With her sketchbook already two-thirds full, not to mention the loose sheets of larger paper folded up and tucked within, Gabby felt confidant that she had a lot of stuff to show Thel.

Outside the mess, they had to go separate ways. John hesitated only for a second, but Ulys still caught the flickering glance.

The elite held a closed fist over his heart, bowing his head slightly. "It is a great honour to be tasked with this duty. No harm shall befall the Demon's Mate while I stand guard," he intoned, and John's eyebrows made a valiant effort to join his hairline. "Fear not for her safety while under my care."

Gabby was so red in the face she likely resembled a tomato. "It's what the Elite's are calling me, apparently."

"...I see." John looked ready to start laughing. "I leave her in your care then, Ulys."

While she was a miffed at being passed around from body-guard to body-guard in disguise, Gabby understood that she was an unauthorised civilian on a military vessel.

With another grin he took off.

"I have no idea how to get to Thel, um, Arbiters," she corrected for the second time, "office from here, so lead on."

Ulys did so, but he gave her a look she thought might have been consideration. He did not break the silence for a time, and it wasn't uncomfortable by any means, until they were in an elevator. Once a harried looking pair with armfuls of blue-prints and papers left and they were alone, did he speak his mind.

"You truly call him friend, don't you?"

Gabby shook her head clear of design ideas, having retreated into her headspace again. It was obvious whom he spoke of.

"Well, yes, I do."She cleared her throat. "Is something bothering you about that?"

"Not in the way you may be thinking," he admitted quietly, though as he seemed so serene all the time she had a hard time imagining him raising his voice at all. "I have witnessed and experienced the hostility of many humans; your...easy acceptance of a Sanghelli as a friend is perplexing. Let alone the one whom has led campaigns against your kind."

They stepped from the elevator their pace steady but unhurried. She sighed, choosing her words carefully. "I wasn't always so accepting of the Alliance after the War, I lost friends, and I know people that are shadows of themselves from loss or trauma. It took time, absorbing new ideas often does since we are a breathtakingly stubborn race most of the time, but I came around. My uncle talked some sense into me too, and knowing how important Th-ugh, _Arbiter_, was to John was just another reason to accept him."

Talking to him, getting to know him, and hearing that he does regret the loss of life, was important too."

"Even though he may have, even if indirectly, killed someone you care for?"

Now _that_ was a tough question.

Her thumb swept back and forth across the surface of her sketchbook idly as she thought. "My parents were killed by a human. Not even in a battle." She admitted softly, an old ache in her chest throbbing like a bruise. "They were the most important people to me, and for a while I did hate the person that had caused their death, even though it wasn't really his fault." She ran a hand through her hair. "Hate is like poison. It can do no good, and holding onto it turns people into something worse. Humanity has warred with each other, over religion, power, money, and other things, and though it takes time, we heal, we move on."

"Time," Ulys rumbled, "seems to pass so slowly when balanced on a daggers edge."

"I suppose it does."

When they reached a hallway that they had a number of official nameplates plastered to several door, Ulys spoke again. "I will remain outside."

Before she knocked, Gabby made sure to meet his eyes even though it just about killed her neck to bend it that far back.

"I enjoyed our talk. Thank you for escorting me here."

If he was surprised, Ulys did not show it. He merely dipped his head slightly.

"You are a credit to your people, Demon's Mate. May your ancestors guide your steps," he said.

"And may your foes tremble before you," she said, remembering the traditional way Thel had mentioned elites greeted those worthy of respect before they had joined the Covenant.

He had clearly not been expecting her to know this formality. Laughter that was hearty and loud echoed from his large chest, mandibles flicking with each chortle.

This interaction gave her hope. A hope that burned in her heart like a candle in complete and utter darkness. A hope for a future without blood and war and screams of the dying.

Gabby smiled, clutching the sketchbook to her chest, and knocked on the door.

o**O**oo**O**o

_Short chapter, and mostly a filler to set up what happens next._

_Though the updates may come slowly, I will finish the story. I may not be as inspired as I once was, but we will get to the end._

_Razz_


	37. Chapter 36

_I've fudged the timeline within the story, as some of you have pointed out. It doesn't truly affect anything, but for continuation purposes and technical detailing it is a big no-no. I apologise, HERE HAVE A COOKIE IN THE SHAPE OF A SPARTAN HELMET. _

o**O**oo**O**o

**My Neighbour is a Spartan**

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

Earth had never looked so beautiful.

Something inside of Gabby, that had twisted itself into knots, and then more knots, relaxed at the sight of the big green and blue blob that was mankinds motherland.

Her knees felt a little weak, so Gabby fell against the solid weight beside her.

Her farm was a tiny speck on the planet, but it was home, and it was so close.

Gabby absently pressed a hand to her sternum, where it felt so much easier to breathe. "Do you miss Reach like this? Like there is a space in your chest that won't fill up."

Gabby's parents made up one hole in her heart. She didn't like having another.

She knew that John was considering her words, because that was what he always did. He savoured conversation, though only with a certain few people. He considers, he ponders. John is careful with his words, knowing the power they can hold.

"Sometimes," John murmured. He leant forward, hands braced on the railing. She moved with him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "It...hurt, a lot, when it happened. Now it's like a bruise. Only hurts when prodded."

The hand that rested over her heart she moved. John's heart was always strong, drumming along steadily, but it made her smile (and maybe want to giggle like a child) when her touch alone had that heartbeat kicking up a pace. Her hand only stayed a moment, just long enough for her to let him know that she was here, that she understood.

"Does it ever fade entirely?"

Gabby hummed thoughtfully, looping her arms around his. It wasn't just Reach they spoke of, but the people he grew up with that had died as well. "No, you just learn how to bear it. True pain like that never leaves you, it demands to be recognised for what it is. Love is dangerous, if only because of the hurt it leave behind when taken away."

He was silent, then, a chuckle. "You and your speeches."

"They add colour to your life," Gabby breezed, squeezed the warm mass her arms curled over. "Speaking of colour, what do you think Rangi's face will turn when I come home? I think he'll swear till his blue in the face, personally."

"You're his family." He tilted his head, mouth curling. "And I think he'll turn red."

Gabby chuckled. Squinting, she was just able to make out the tiny silver dots orbiting the planet. The defence grid, any ships flying about, and various satellites. "Which station are we landing on, and how am I getting home?"

"You've been debriefed already and signed the confidentiality forms?"

"Yep."

"Then you can go back whenever you want."

Gabby chewed her lip. She traced symbols into his arm, then letters.

_I-L-O-_

"When are you heading back?"

_V-E-Y- _

She thought of her farm, and knew that her responsibilities were drawing her home. An email from Rangi had informed her that he, his family, and a number of other people who owed her favours or were just that good at heart were working together and keeping things running smoothly on her farm. Ryan was doing well as well, having woken up from the medical coma he'd been put into yesterday.

_-O-U_

Lips pressed to her crown, warm air gusting over her skin in a way that made her shiver. A scarred finger began tracing over the back of her hand, and she smothered a giggle into his arm.

_I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U-T-O-O_

"When you go, I go." He said like it was nothing and didn't make her feel lighter than air. "There may be a meeting or two, but as Thel technically owns _The Bringer of Peace_, and it has no weapons, he can fly us home whenever we're ready."

"Didn't realise that we had our very own taxi."

"Don't let him hear you say that." They traded grins. "We'll be landing on _Liberty_, then taking a pelican down to the New York Air Base. The ship is docked...what?"

"New York?" Gabby wheezed. "We're going to _New York_? Once of the most fashionable cities in the world? _That _New York?"

"Breathe, Gabby." When she did take a great gulp, hardly able to contain her excitement, he continued. "I take it that you wanted to go there?"

"Absolutely. Ever designer dreams of going to New York. I...I was saving up to go, actually," she admitted softly, "but then I had a funeral to pay for and a farm to take care of, so it just wasn't an option."John tucked some loose hair behind her ear, saying nothing, but offering everything. "It doesn't matter anymore. I would like to see the embassy a little bit though, if Thel doesn't mind. It might give me some more ideas for formal wear, maybe I could make some casual stuff too."

Though his eyes were always guarded, something he had been doing on this ship a lot, she realised, Gabby could tell that he was chewing on his thoughts, rolling them around in his head until they made sense. "Thel's ship is docked on top of the embassy, so you'll see it either way."

The stations were more discernible now. If she held up her thumb in just the right position, one would be hidden entirely. For some reason, it made her sad. "John," she said, almost afraid to speak louder, "are things going to change?"

"Perhaps," John said, just as soft and reverent, "but I promise to be by your side, whenever I can."

o**OO**o

The ship shuddered like an elevator coming to a stop, a faint change in motion and a disquiet feeling in her gut. Dressed in casual military wear, like most of the marines disembarking, and with her hair tightly fastened in a bun, Gabby looked like she was just another soldier coming home. Someone who was trained to focus on small details would pick out that she wasn't military, but the charade was largely to keep the press out of the loop.

The whole idea behind this was to keep her presence quiet. While a select few in Tamworth knew the basic truth, that she had been kidnapped, they did not know by who or why. Gabby hoped that her life would retain some normalcy. She had worked so hard to build a life, to turn her farm around when her accounts had been in the red. If she had to give it up, surrender it all jsut because of what Reynolds had done...she wouldn't know what to do with herself.

Gabby nearly snorted. Maybe she could become the first to open a line of clothing for elites.

The marines around her made general chatter. The hum of conversation kept her from regressing to deep into her head. Someone nudged her elbow. "Oh. Hi, Locksley."

He smiled, a tiny little thing. "Last minute change of plans, Miss Edwards. The brass decided to let the press get some shots of the ship as it landed and we all jumped off." He nodded, and following his gaze, Gabby saw a cluster of people with cameras and flashing lights waiting for them. Her heart seized. "Don't worry, we're gonna break off and steer clear of them."

"Yep!" Haze declared from her left. It did not escape her noticed that the bulky man had positioned himself to block her from the press. She could hear the clamour they were making, shouting questions to the officers and other ranking officials, now that the ships engines were quiet. God, they were making a right racket. "Alrighty, boys and girls, all those on our lovely civvies detail please head towards the right. Well go in with the peeps coming down from the west wing."

While the marines around her shifted their direction subtly, Gabby spied Thel and a number of other elites among the white garbed humans. And green.

Against her will, Gabby cringed at the sight of the MJOLNIR armour.

It hit her like a bucket of icy water, dousing her in cold. Sunlight flashed on the golden visor as it turned to face the reporters. She remembered seeing her own reflection in the gold, seeing the burning blade inch closer. The smell of burnt hair seemed to fill her nose. She nearly gagged.

A hand ghosted over her arm, fingers pressed to the back of her wrist. "Hey, you alright there...oh." Haze pinched his brows as he found the cause of her distress. "Bad memories, huh?"

"Yeah." She wet her lips, but her tongue felt too dry to make much of a difference. "Bad memories."

It gutted her that the sight of that armour that had protected John for so long terrified her. Had it only been days ago that she had stood before him, worn his helmet, and run her fingers along it's scars? It hadn't bothered her then, maybe intimidated her a little, but she wasn't _afraid_. God, it wasn't even John's armour, it was one of the other Spartans.

"It will get better," Haze tried, "well, it might. I don't know much about PTSD and trauma, so I could be completely wrong-"

"Dude," William hissed, "shut up. You are not helping."

"Both of you be quiet." Stevens rolled her eyes. Her position behind them had her in the perfect position to slap the back of the men's heads. Which she did. "Faces forward and backs straight. They're snapping hundreds of damn photos back there."

Shoulders hunching slightly, Gabby tossed a grateful smile at the others as they closed ranks. The tallest of the group made a wall between her and the cameras. Haze, Stevens, William and a few other marines whom she did not know blocked their sight effectively. "Ya'll alright there, miss?" The tallest asked.

"I'm fine, thanks." She tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. He watched her for a moment, maybe thinking she was going to pass out, but nodded.

"Good. We're almost there."

Gabby readjusted the bag slung over her shoulder, her actual clothes stashed within, and rolled the tight muscles loose. Her back was one big knot after the stress she had suffered the past few days.

"Ah, miss, can I ask something?" the tall man asked again. The strap from his bag hid his name tag from view. Curious, she nodded. "Are you really making clothes for the elites?"

"Oh my god," she chuckled, "I didn't think scuttlebutt was this fast." There were a few titters from her human shield.

"It's true then?" Another asked. A woman with a buzz cut and a tattoo peeping from under her the collar of her shirt. "I will bribe you to make everything neon pink. Throw some sparkly shit in there too and I will officially love you forever."

"Noooo," someone in the back moaned. "No pink. I work with the elite engineers and I _hate _pink. Go blue, or green."

"Polkadots!"

"Screw making them look like a housewife from the 1950's. Give them racing stripes."

"So instead of a housewife a zebra?"

"Like a racing car, jerk."

"Bitch."

"Enough!" Stevens hollered as they merged with the group disembarking from the hanger on the west wing. They were all headed for the barracks, where Gabby would have to wait until they were given the all clear to leave the base. "You are the chosen representatives of humanity, bloody act like it."

"We're just showing them our fun side," the same two guys chorused. She couldn't see them, but she sensed the grins in their tones. "So, miss, pink, spots or stripes?" the one with more gravel added.

"I think that formal wear won't suit any of those, I'm afraid."

"Haha, suck it, Dean."

"Fuck you, Sam."

"Those brothers will drive me grey," Stevens pressed a finger to her temple while Gabby tried desperately not to laugh.

By now, they had cleared the air field and were headed for the barracks. Half a dozen long, warehouse looking buildings sat neatly near a larger building which she thought might be the mess. As nice as it was to have her feet back on earth, Gabby just wanted to go home. To be surrounded by the walls she had grown up in, to smell her farm and feel Boomers warm fur under her hands.

Gabby was going to hole herself up in her house, eat junk food, and watch her favourite movies with Boomer on one side and John on the other. She was going to take Thunder our for a long ride and come home sweaty and exhausted, but still drag her butt over for a barbeque with Rangi and his family. She was going to have a long talk with Monica, one that would probably end with her in tears and a sobbing mess, because as much as Gabby wanted to pretend that she was fine, she really wasn't.

While Monica was a sex therapist, she was a fully qualified therapist as well. Had been a practising one for years before she went and got another qualification.

"Ah, the smell of socks, sweat, and manliness." Haze threw open the door to the male barracks, tossing a wave over his shoulder. "Honey, I'm home!"

"The kids don't recognise you anymore!" Someone within hollered.

The men split off, the women continued onto the next building. "Bunch of children," Stevens grumbled, throwing her bag down on a bed and practically falling on it. "Have a seat, we'll be here for a few hours. Debriefs take forever, and the press will probably keep them occupied for a while."

Gingerly sitting on the opposite bunk, Gabby kneaded the back of her neck. The other women headed for the showers, muttering about grabbing some food. Stevens made no move for either. It looked like she was settling in for a nap. It seemed that they would be here for a while. Wanting to keep busy, Gabby took out one of the sketchbooks that wasn't full and began working on some more ideas. For fun, she drew an elite in a punk ensemble, and coloured it pink.

She tore it out and set it on the bag of the tattooed woman, hoping it gave her a laugh.

By the time she had fleshed out at least a dozen new designs in one of the styles Thel had taken a liking to, a knock sounded at the door. Stevens shot up and rolled to her feet, apparently having never gone to sleep. "That'll be for us. Come on, Ulys promised that there would be a cold beer waiting for us at the embassy."

"Cold beer," Gabby sighed dreamily, "that sounds perfect."

"Only thing that could make it better would be-"

"-a damn big steak."

Stevens chuckled throatily, pulling her hat back on. Gabby did the same and shouldered her bag again. A private opened the door and called for them. "Car's waitin', mum," the fair haired Brit tossed Steven's the keys and two little boxes. "The glasses you asked for."

"Thanks." They found a plain black car waiting for them. It wasn't a flashy model, but still nicer than Gabby's truck. "The military look works for you, by the way. Here, put these on. The windows are tinted, but once we're out of the car they'll be handy."

Gabby shut her door and laughed under her breathe at the comment. She took the glasses out, aviators, and slipped them on. The ambiguity made her feel a little more secure. "My mum thought I would have made a good sniper, or a medic, but I...think that she was relieved when I didn't sign up. She loved her service, but didn't want me fighting in a war."

The car purred to life. "Your mum served?"

"Yeah. Pelican pilot for twelve years. Served on Reach, except for a brief stint with the hospital carrier _Royalty_."

"No kidding," Stevens pulled in behind a few other cars waiting to leave the base. "I had a cousin that served on the _Royalty_ as a nurse. And another cousin that had to have a bullet pulled from his ass."

"That must be an interesting story."

"It would have been, if he had told us how it happened. Refused too, though." Their turn came at the boom gate. One man scanned Stevens ID while another ran some kind of device over the car. They were waved through moments later, a general "Welcome back to earth" as their parting gift. "It will take us about thirty minutes to get to the base, if traffic isn't too bad."

Neither of them made to turn on the radio, not when they had just come back from what they were likely talking about. Hearing facts get twisted, or whatever lies were being fed to the general ppopulace, was not something they wanted to hear. The scenery was more than enough to drag her attention away from pondering things that she did not want to ponder.

"I've always wanted to come to New York," Gabby said, face nearly smushed to the window.

If only the circumstances had been different.

o**OO**o

"Have you been in the embassy before?" Gabby stepped from the car, unable to stop herself from scanning the area for photographers. It was becoming a nervous habit already, and she hated that. They had pulled up past other diplomatic appearing buildings, flags of several nations adorning the flagpoles. Scattered throughout the high-end street were other buildings, some offices, others galleries and even one high-end restaurant.

Gabby itched to explore, they were in _New fucking York_.

Stevens twirled the keys around her pointer finger. "Yeah. A few times. When I signed up for the mixed squads they brought me and the others out here to learn a few things about the elites." She jerked her chin at the building as they were scanned by various machines for weapons or what-have-you. "There is a public access museum and gallery over there. Check it out if you have time, it's worth seeing. Might be handy for your project too."

Gabby hummed in reply. There were no guards stationed outside, but she felt the tingle of a scanner wash over them as they pushed through the doors.

_Ah. There are the guards_.

There was a pair of elites just inside the doors, another further in. Their armour was breathtaking, sections glowing with the same radiance of fire and flaring out from the shoulders like elaborate plate armour from medieval times. A spear with a head of the same brilliance was held in one hand, the other idle at their sides. They were as intimidating as they were beautiful, especially with their helmet giving them what, by all accounts, looked like two massive crests or horns.

"Eye-catching, yeah?" Stevens chuckled. "Honour guard's get the best armour. I wouldn't mind rocking some plating that glows. Hell, I'd go to this ball in it."

Gabby coughed to hide a laugh.

They checked in with the secretary, who was a woman in a pressed suit and her hair pulled into a severe bun. With a friendly smile, she gave them their ID cards that allowed them top-notch clearance to get up to Thel's office.

"Mr. Arbiter has not arrived yet," the secretary clicked away on her keyboard, nails polished and pristine, "so please feel free to wander around the gallery while you wait."

"That's the plan," Gabby thanked her and did just that. Eagerly whipping out her sketchbook, Gabby ambled through the assorted pieces assembled. There were armours ranging from pre-Covenant times, weapons, art and depictions of Sanghelios blown up into massive frames. "Their grass is blue! And look at those animals. That one looks like a crocodile crossed with a giraffe."

"They used to ride them," Stevens jerked her chin at the displays in the next room, and Gabby eagerly trotted after her. "This is all pre-Covie stuff. Those banners up there, they were the battle-poems of the most prominent families. And these things here are scale models of animals they used to domesticate."

"Jesus, look at the teeth on that thing. It's an...Arrancar...oh, ew, they drink it's blood."

"Humans delight in eating fermented excretions from bovines," a dual-toned voice spoke, "each of our peoples have peculiar dietary habits." The elite was not garbed in armour, but soft materials that draped over his form like robes. "I am the Keeper of Knowledge for this collection. A curator and expert, to use the terms of your kind. You are the Demon's Mate, are you not?"

Stevens eyebrows flew right up her forehead like they were fishhooked. Gabby ignored the reaction. "I am, Keeper. Can I help you?"

The keeper had eyes, fittingly, the colour of paper in old books. Cream ringing with aged yellow watched her shrewdly. "The Arbiter has informed me of your task. I trust the portfolios that I compiled were of use in your efforts. Come, they will arrive shortly."

Trading a look of intrigue with Stevens, they did just that. Leading them past the honour guards and up two floors, the Keeper brought them into an array of offices that looked more like it was suited for elites. There were human chairs, but then there were ones almost like barstools with egg-shaped bottoms. The colour scheme was darker, in hues of royal blues and purples, with softer colours dominating the walls, barring a feature wall behind the curved desk.

"Keeper," Gabby said as she set her bad down by a guest chair, "Thel mentioned that he agreed to the ball before he really knew what it was. Do elites know how to dance?"

Where the elite could not see, Steven's eyes grew wide and her face red. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, but it quivered in her shoulders. Gabby ignored her. "Afraid not. It is not something any warrior indulges in. Children perhaps." Keeper answers grimly. "I have been researching human customs when it comes to these _balls_, but the terminology is irritating. What is a fox-trot?"

Gabby rubbed her temple. "Oh dear."

This just became a hell of a lot more complicated.

o**OO**o

When John and Thel arrived to the embassy, after hours of tedious debrief, and in Thel's case, interviews with the press, it was to find Gabby, Stevens, and an elite bent over a piece of paper and muttering amongst themselves.

"The Waltz is a given," Gabby said, scribbling away, "as will some of the livelier dances that involve partners."

"As in two persons dancing together?" the elite, the first one John had ever seen not dressed in armour, said with his eye-ridges raised. "Peculiar custom."

"There are some weird dances out there." Stevens shrugged. "Hey, Chief, Arbiter. We were just discovering how far in the deep end you all are with this ball."

"Quite deep, by the looks of it." Gabby smiled in greeting, soft and sweet as sugar. "You need a dancing instructor to at least teach you the basics, as it is really rude not to dance at these things. You'll probably need an etiquette instructor to go over all the cutlery and courses. Then there is the basic run though of the whole event, you'll probably have to give a speech too, Thel." She tapped the pen against her lip. "Since this is a big event, and there will probably be photographers milling around, you really do need to learn this stuff."

A low groan rumbled from Thel's chest as he gracefully sat in the large chair behind the desk. It looked like an egg with the front cut off. "This is turning out to be a rather painful endeavour."

"Yeah, you're stuck in a load of shit," Gabby said, absently reaching for his hand as John came to stand beside her. There were a lot of things on that list of hers. "But we'll get you through it. I know some people that might be open to the dance lessons, and Steven's will ask around the squads for other instructors."

Stevens had her own notepad out, already marking down names and numbers from memory. "Only issue is, stuff like this costs money, sir. Does the embassy have a budget?"

John really did feel bad for his friend. Thrown in the deep end indeed. "We have accumulated some of your currency in various trading, along with some payments for assisting in mending ships. Whatever you need to make us not look like fools, you will have." Thel growled. "It is beggining to look more and more like we were set up to fail."

"Well then," Gabby brightly said, flipping out her sketch book with a flourish that had John smiling, "we will just have make sure that you don't."

o**O**oo**O**o

_This is so short, but I just got stuck with where to end this one. It was a filler, but we're making progress!_


End file.
